


All I Can Think About Is You

by Thestorans



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Niall, Cheating, F/M, Hurt Niall, Journalist Bressie, Loss of Trust, Lots of Angst, M/M, Marriage, Nessie Summer Fanwork Fest, Smut, Top bressie, lying, small town
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 22:04:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11299758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thestorans/pseuds/Thestorans
Summary: Because no matter how far away you are from the love of your life, you need to be loyal.Or, what a big city does to a man like Bressie.





	All I Can Think About Is You

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever Nessie fic and I have to admit, I am so proud of it! I want to thank my extremely flexible beta Alex who had edited this whole work. Also thank you to the organizers of the Nessie Fanwork Fest, this was so fun to write especially for a ship like Nessie that isn't appreciated enough!
> 
> (Title of story is from the song All I Can Think About Is You by Coldplay.)

The town was called Clonakilty, population four thousand seven hundred. Not really famous for anything, but the waterfront was a beauty for travellers passing through. Niall didn't really like the folks that came in, acted like a proper scary country man the way he'd scowl at the chirpy faces whenever they'd go out for dinner at Alan's restaurant. It was amusing to Bressie, even though he should scold his husband for acting like that. 

But it was another trait that got Bressie up in the morning, made him smile whenever he'd blink his eyes open to be met by pale skin, red cheeks, and dusted freckles. Then with blue eyes that shone like the sky was snatched from the atmosphere and sucked into them. It was cheesy, but he was a journalist, a writer, it was his job. 

He was looking at his husband right now actually, who was hunched down along the edge of their home, planting some veggies for their vegetable garden they decided to make a year ago. Bressie was watching from the back porch, sitting on one of the basket woven chairs with his journal perched on his thighs and a pen hovering over a half finished paragraph on why men should pay for the dinner on the first date. It wasn't a unique topic, but the debate has floated its way around the town, so what would be more perfect than to slap it on the cover of the Clonakilty newspaper? 

"You've been staring at me for the past twenty minutes now Brez, that pen hasn't moved since I last looked at ya!" Niall's teasing voice rose through Bressie's thoughts, and he blinked to focus on his husband's smiling face, brown hair messy across his forehead from the wind coming in from the waterfront. His cheeks were red from the wind as well, and sweat was beading at his forehead from the activity he'd been doing since Bressie welcomed him home from the antique shop. 

"You've been counting?" Bressie teased back, deciding he was done with his writing today, placing the journal aside on one of the tables beside the chair. He grabbed at the beer he opened for himself, still full and getting a little too warm. Gross. 

"Don't get smart with me Breslin, I have no tolerance right now. I've had my knees in the dirt for a good week now!" Niall stood up from where he was kneeling, wagging a garden glove covered hand at him before he took them off and shoved them into the back pocket of his jeans. 

"That's not my fault Chief, you had the big idea to go old school and get ourselves a vegetable garden. I told you Darla from the market has got herself some great selection." Bressie smirked when Niall just gave him another glare, dragging his feet up the porch steps before slumping himself down onto one of the chairs. He sighed loudly, wiping the back of his hand through the sweat on his forehead and grimaced when it became damp.

"She's upped her prices ever since her husband left her. She's become a wicked witch every time I walk into that damned shop. Half the veggies are bruised or dried up anyways, she's lost herself some loyal costumers, Head." Bressie couldn't help but agree, trying to hold back the laugh but failing. He walked towards his husband, moving his beer out in front of Niall for the brunet to grab. 

Niall looked at the drink and then flickered his gaze up to Bressie, having a silent battle with himself until he grumbled and swiped the beer from his husband's hand and gulped a good load down. Bressie chuckled when Niall's expression soared at the bitter and warm taste of a wasted beer, but forced it down anyways. 

"Heard it was a nasty divorce too, took half his things and moved straight out of town." Bressie loved to share the gossip with his husband, since it was such a small town with a smaller population, people knew everything and no secrets were kept for long. Oh, the dinner table conversations they have had. 

"And to think she'd be happier if she got people to like her more, but no, she's a witch." Niall waved his hand in the air as if he was banishing her, and Bressie couldn't help the amused smile from growing across his face as he moved behind the chair and started to massage Niall's shoulders. Niall moaned loudly, head slumping back against the chair and the one hand that wasn't holding the beer coming out to loosely grab at Bressie's wrist, his thumb against his pulse.

Niall reopened his eyes, blue meeting green in a clash as they stared at each other in silence. Bressie kept his movements along Niall's shoulders, kneading the stiff muscles with his thumb and fingers. Niall looked like he was in pure bliss, mouth parted and eyes foggy.

"You've gotta stop doing that to me, Chief," Bressie mumbled, and Niall raised a brow, a small smirk playing on his lips. 

"What? You started massaging me with those big hands of yours, you expect me to not be in heaven?" Niall sighed dramatically but puckered his lips, making a small smooch noise in obvious want for a kiss. Bressie couldn't resist, of course, stopping his massage to lean down and kiss at his husbands lips, slipping his tongue inside for good measure to make Niall squirm. 

They parted with a smack, and Niall giggled and moved his knees up towards his chest, arms coming up to hug at Bressie's broad shoulders, but not really doing that good since it was an awkward angle. The was still beer still in Niall's hands and it tipped dangerously, Bressie grabbing at it before he'd end up wearing it, stepping away from Niall's grabbing hands. 

"Come back here, m'not done with my spa treatment." Niall was holding his arms out straight in front of him with his bottom lip pouted out. He looked like one of the little kiddies that got told they couldn't buy one of the old vintage toys that Niall had in a little box outside the shop with 'one euro' written on the front. It was cute whenever Bressie popped in during his break at work. It was always an amusing sight that had Bressie poking at Niall's side over and over again to make Niall look with him. One time, Niall had felt so bad for a sulking little lad who had gotten to the point of having a fit on the sidewalk ground, Niall had fished a small toy out from the box and gave it to him for free. 

"It's getting windy and looks like it might rain. Let's head inside now love." Bressie took a step inside their house, but didn't make a move to go any further before he looked over his shoulders to see if his husband was going to follow. Niall was still looking unhappy with Bressie's decision, but got up anyways. 

Bressie smirked, moving into their home and making his way to the kitchen first. He dumped the rest of the beer down the drain, throwing the can in the little box they had under the counter where they collected their cans until it was filled enough for them to hand it off to one of the owners of the drug stores downtown. Jimmy was his name, and he used the aluminum in the cans for his work at home. They got about 10 cents per can which wasn't a lot, but it added up when there was forty cans in the box.

He tried not to think about how much they drank, but having two Irishmen in the house made it normal. 

Bressie flinched when hands were suddenly wrapped around his waist from behind. He had faded out of reality again, standing with his hands settled on the edge of the sink staring into nothing. He looked down at the pale hands spread along his tummy, and smirked seeing his journal held in one of Niall's hands, his pen in the other. 

Bressie turned in the grip, still smiling as he blinked down at Niall. They were chest to chest, Niall's chin rested on Bressie's sternum as he looked up to meet his eyes. 

"You forgot your journal, don't wanna lose your hard work from the rain." Niall unwrapped one of his arms to shake the journal into Bressie's face tauntingly, making Bressie chuckle and snatch it back quickly. Niall's hand settled softly along his chest now that it was free from holding anything, pale fingers scratching at the fabric of his shirt. 

"You're right, but my perfect husband would never let that happen, right?" It was his turn to wrap his arms around Niall's waist, moving his hands a little lower to drum at the smaller brunet’s bum. 

"Might just let it happen next time, teach you a lesson for forgetting so much." Niall had a glint of mischief in his eyes, smiling to show his teeth in a playful snarl. It reminded Bressie of a puppy, and he chuckled only to catch Niall off-guard, hoisting him up into the air and whipping them around so Niall was now plopped down on the countertop. It was a familiar reflex for Niall to simply wrap his legs around Bressie's waist, locking him in place and wrapping his arms so they hung along his neck as well. 

"You're a wild one tonight Brez, can't catch up with you!" Niall giggled out, moving in to smooch all along Bressie's mouth and jawline, giving him cheeky nips. 

"I'm supposed to be the old fart, m'older than you. Keep up young one." Bressie chased Niall's lips, catching his bottom lip with his teeth and giving it a small tug to make Niall whine. 

They really shouldn't do anything tonight, Bressie has work at the crack of dawn tomorrow. He didn't get far with the topic he was supposed to have typed up for this weekends morning paper, so he needed to buckle down and get it done. He knew Niall always liked to get up early as well, set up shop and get as much business as possible throughout the day. But this was so tempting, with the way Niall's lips tasted like the remnants of Bressie's beer and from the homemade chicken noodle soup they had for dinner. Or how Niall's small legs were tightening along his waist, making the back of Bressie's work shirt get all balled up and shimmied out from where it was tucked into his trousers. This would be nice, really nice, but would he be able to accept the mornings consequences?

"Earth to Mister Niall Breslin, your husband wants a shag and you're somewhere else at the moment." Niall's greedy hands were already popping the buttons of Bressie's shirt, and he chuckled breathlessly before moving his own hands to clamp at Niall's nimble fingers, bringing them up to kiss each knuckle. 

"We've got work in the morning, can't you wait till the weekend?" 

Niall rolled his eyes as soon as Bressie said that, dropping his hands from Bressie's grasp and setting them on either side of him along the countertop. He wasn't impressed obviously, but Bressie still held his stern expression, not backing down. 

"That's asking a lot Brez. A man wants what he wants, can't ya tug me off or something?" Niall gave Bressie those youthful wide eyes, plumping his lips up to look all kissable. It was torture for Bressie on a daily basis, to be in the presence of such a beautiful man. 

"If I tug you off, you'll want me to bend you over the dining room table next." Bressie was already caving. Niall could tell because the younger brunet could always read him like a book. He was already smiling devilishly, watching how Bressie slowly fell into his trap. 

"I guess you'll just have to take a chance..." Niall bit at his lip, and Bressie knew all his walls were crumbling around him. He didn't show it though, keeping his composure as he scraped his eyes down his husbands body until his one hand came whipping out to undo Niall's button and tug down the zipper. Niall gasped happily, already lifting his hips up eagerly to shimmy the trousers down his legs, hooking his fingers around his pants too. 

  


  


The morning was a lot less horrible than he thought it would be when Bressie awoke, eyes fluttering open and staring up at the ceiling fan that spun lazily above his head. He blinked at it for a few seconds, regaining his energy for the day, and charging himself up before he shuffled onto his side to be met with Niall. The smaller brunet was still asleep, laid out on his side facing Bressie and had his mouth open slightly with small snores escaping past his lips. 

Bressie was hypnotized for a good minute or so before he shuffled further up the bed to rest his back along the headboard. The coolness of the wood was a nip to his skin and he sighed deeply, slowly feeling the morning drowsiness leak out of him. 

"Chief." He moved a hand out, rubbing along Niall's shoulder and shook him lightly to get him to open his eyes. But there was nothing. Bressie looked to his nightstand to see it was already six am, they needed to get up and leave at six thirty, that was the usual time they were up and out the door to go their separate ways. 

"Love, gotta get up." Bressie shuffled back down the bed, moving so he was pressed right up against Niall and moving his lips along the brunets ear, then down his neck and around the collarbone till he got to the curve of Niall's pale shoulder. There was the smallest mole engraved on the shoulder, and Bressie kissed and sucked at it till he could feel Niall squirming and groaning, trying but failing to push him off with his hands along Bressie's chest. 

"M'up, m'up," Niall grumbled, even though he was grabbing at the sheets to pull them more tightly around himself, his eyes still closed shut and peaceful. He wasn't a morning person, Bressie had noticed that throughout the two years they have been married, and it was always a chore to get Niall up. But once Niall whined and got to his feet, he would be up and rushing around the house like a switch turned on in his head. Bressie obviously couldn’t keep up with his husbands energy, and soon enough the tables would be turned and Niall would be yelling at him across the house as he rushes down the stairs, already dressed and ready to go. 

"You're not, now let me see those blue eyes so I can start my day." Bressie always teased Niall about that, how he wouldn't get up until Niall would open his eyes and stare into him. But it always worked to get the younger lad up, so it just stuck with their morning routine. 

There they were, eyes shining like a beacon of hope when they opened. They still had a filter of clouds around them, Niall blinking slowly and trying his hardest not to close them shut again. After a couple seconds he stretched roughly along the bed, back arching off the mattress before he was sitting up to be eye-level with Bressie.

"You've got me up, now go and get ready." Niall shoved at Bressie shoulder, it only jostling him a little bit and making him laugh. Niall was rubbing at his eyes now, widening them to get himself more awake. He'd be up very soon though, as soon as Bressie got himself up out of the bed and in the bathroom to brush his teeth, Niall would be following him to take his morning wee. 

He shuffled to the edge of the bed, ruffling at his own bedhead and then hoisting himself onto his feet. Bressie wasn't wrong, and by the time he had put his toothpaste onto his brush, the soft sound of bare feet padding against the tile of the washroom was heard. 

  


  


"Have a good day darling," Bressie sung as they headed out onto the front porch and made their way down the stairs of their home. 

They lived just outside town, a small little farm house with a barn in the back that they never really used. It was a dream home of theirs for a long, long time. The home had been abandoned when they were kids and when they were in their teens, they'd hightail it with their mates through the bush -- never minding the few consequences of getting scratches along their skin and holes in their clothing from the endless amount of branches -- to sneak inside and get drunk off their arses. It was a place they had memories in before they even bought it and fixed it up, and now it's a little sanctuary for them that they kept close to their hearts. 

"Get me goodbye kiss first?" Niall ignored Bressie's cheesy words, moving forward to hook his fingers around the collar of Bressie's dress shirt to pull him in. He gladly kissed his husband, just a small but meaningful smooch before they were stepping back from one another to head into their separate cars. 

Bressie had a pickup truck, given by his father when he was twenty two and in the middle of College in Dublin for a little bit. It was a wonderful gift; he didn't have to go back and forth from the town to the big city by getting his parents, or a mate, to pick him up all the time. It was even better when Bressie was finished College, he never drove so fast back to his hometown before. Big cities were nice, but crowded with tourists and bustling citizens getting to their work every day. There was no rest, no sleep in that city, and it gave him a headache most days. 

Niall's car was a the ugliest little thing though, a Morris Mini Minor, an old and rotting car that's motor sounded like a gunshot whenever it stalled. Niall had gotten it for his nineteenth birthday and he's had it ever since. It had been used by many generations in his family, too much since now it's rusting over and the baby blue paint is chipping from it. 

But it got them to work, since they couldn't really go together when they had separate jobs with different commitments. Bressie hoped some day they could scavenge enough money to get Niall a new car, something that wasn't an embarrassment to sit in if Niall insisted on being the one to drive them whenever they went down to the pier or to the restaurant. 

Bressie got himself into his truck, slamming the door shut and placing the key into the ignition. He smirked when he heard the familiar pop of Niall's engine when it didn't start, and then the loud sound of it roaring to life. He waited and didn't move his truck yet, watching as Niall waved a hand out the window of his car before he sped off down the long dirt road that was their driveway, it becoming lost in the dust that got picked up from the tires. 

It took about a minute to get to the end of the driveway and onto the main road, and then Bressie would still be staring at Niall's license plate until they got downtown when Bressie had to turn left while Niall turned right. Now he was on his own for the day, and had an article to finish. 

  


  


"You know, I've been thinking..." Ronny, Bressie's coworker, spoke out with the back of his pen between his teeth. He was leant all the way back on his office chair, and Bressie was sure he'd fall and it would probably make his day. "That you should sign up for that job posting I put on the bulletin board in the break room, I've got too many kids to do that, but you're a young lad, could probably go pretty far with your life." 

Bressie raised a brow, that caught his attention and made him swivel in his chair. He stop typing up the rest of his article. He finished it thank god, he just needed to send out the good copy to his boss and then he'd get it published. 

"What job posting?" he asked.

Ronny looked shocked, raising his brows high into his forehead and dropping the pen from his lips. It fell onto his lap and rolled off onto the floor. It was pretty comical watching him try to scramble and catch it, but he brushed it off and got up from his chair, waltzing over to Bressie and giving him a weirdly stern look. 

"You've been in that damn break room every day and have never checked the bulletin board?" Ronny looked like a kicked puppy, shoulders slumping and eyes locking right into Bressie's almost uncomfortably. 

Bressie didn't look away, he just shrugged and shook his head. He only went into the break room for certain things -- to get some coffee or grab his lunch from the fridge. He thought people did the same, but apparently there was more in there than he thought. 

"Come here, let's go." Ronny tugged at Bressie's shoulder, making him get off his chair -- almost tripping over the legs of his desk -- in his attempt to catch up with the man as he rushed towards the break room a couple ways down the hallway. 

Bressie watched as Ronny stopped at the bulletin board he was talking about; he took a pin out of one flyer and then threw it at Bressie's face.

Bressie didn't quite read until a couple seconds later, trying to regain his sight back from flinching at the paper flying into his face. But he read the title as soon as his eyes zeroed in on it, and his brows raised and mouth opened, now this was perfect. 

"Holy shit, this-this is in London, and it's a big company as well… The Daily Telegraph." Bressie was almost breathless, felt as if he was punched in the gut. 

He couldn't lie, he'd been wanting to have some excitement in his life, wanted to go further with his dreams in journalism. Dublin wasn't enough, wasn't the city for him, but hell, London could be the one. Many people's dreams had come true there, why not his?

It was The Telegraph, the biggest newspaper and gossip website in the United Kingdom. It wasn't a small little newspaper place like in the small town of Clonakilty. It was so much different, and what would an irrelevant Irishman like him get out of that?  Those were negative thoughts, he knew that, but there was probably fifty thousand other men and women in front of him who would get the job before he did, any day. 

"Yeah, it's The Telegraph but I've seen your articles, seen your work. It's amazing, and I have never heard David tell you your articles weren't good enough for the paper. You've got a gift, Niall, use it." Ronny sounded so determined, pointing roughly at the flyer in Bressie's hands as he spoke. Every word was lifting Bressie's bad thoughts, but it wasn't enough.

"I-I don't know mate, it's amazing this job… but how's a guy like me gonna get a big job like this?" He told Ronny exactly what he was thinking, trying to act unbothered as he settled the flyer down on one of the desks and making his way further into the break room to grab himself some coffee. He might as well, and he truthfully needed it after finding this out. 

"No, no way am I letting you walk away from this big of an opportunity just ‘cause you've got cold feet. I'm gonna get David to send your resume in myself if you don't do this." 

Bressie admired how supportive his friend was for him, but he still felt the swirl of unsureness in his gut and it wasn't going away. 

"I-I don't know Ron, I don't know." Bressie sighed and shook his head, watching as the coffee machine sizzled to a stop to signal the coffee was done brewing. He grabbed at a cup with the four-leaf clover on it, setting it down and pouring the coffee into it, the comforting smell of the fresh coffee beans filled his nostrils. It was a nice feeling that calmed his anxiety down. 

He flinched embarrassingly when a hand clapped down on his shoulder. The coffee he was pouring sloshed onto the table, making him curse and back up before any of it got onto his dress pants. Ronny didn't look fazed, keeping his serious expression, hand squeezing along Bressie's shoulder. 

"What could possibly go wrong by just sending a resume and cover letter in? It's not like you gotta put your picture and send a video in, or like they are gonna put you on the news with the headline  _ ‘Niall Breslin didn't get into The Daily Telegraph ‘cause he's a dumbass’.  _ You need to just take a shot in the dark here." He shook at Bressie's shoulder during his bold little speech, and Bressie was happy he wasn't still holding his coffee after that. 

But he had to be serious here, maybe he should just do it? It won't be so bad, Ron was right. He had his boss to write out a good reference for him, and his degree in Dublin wasn't a bad one to have. And it could just be a fun thing to test out, just send one out and not really expect anything to happen from it, but at least he wasn't going to regret not doing it. 

"O-okay fine, yeah I'll do it." Bressie smiled towards Ronny, and his friend looked ecstatic, clapping his hands in happiness and stepping away with the biggest grin across his face. He was more excited for this than Bressie was, it looked like. 

"Okay, you better sit your arse back down at your desk and start getting your resume together. Don't get off that office chair till you're done."

Bressie chuckled at his friends orders, grabbing at his coffee when the coast was clear and started to make his way back to his desk. But halfway there he turned on his heels, giving Ronny a cheeky grin. 

"You sound like our boss, David should watch his back." That got a chuckle out of Ron, and that was good enough for Bressie to turn back around and get to work. The article was almost done, so he could put aside all that for now to work on the resume. 

He wasn't going to put too much thought into it anyways, because again, the doubt of getting the job of a lifetime was still a hard cement block in his gut. 

  


  


He had sent it in. His boss had written him a reference, and he did his cover letter and resume in under two hours. It wasn't the best resume he ever made -- the best one was probably for the company he worked for now; he remembers Niall asking if he could stick it on the refrigerator like a proud mother to her child's drawing. 

Now he was almost sure he wasn't going to get the job. Ronny had kept on telling him off every time he said those thoughts, had been overdramatic when Bressie handed him his resume to read and threw his hands up in the air with a yelp. He told Bressie it was  _ 'the best shit I've read in awhile, a true journalist right here, a masterpiece’,  _ and he even clapped. To say the least, Bressie had to turn away from his mate to hide the blush along his cheeks. 

But Ronny could be his cheerleader all he wanted, it still won't change the obviously very professional and picky minds of the posh people in London, England. Bressie just wasn't going to cut it, and although there was a squeeze in his heart at the disappointment of it all, he was still perfectly fine to stay here in this good old town, close to home and his childhood friends. 

What would Niall even say if he got the job, anyway? His husband owned his own shop, and would never want to leave after all the hard work he put into buying the shop and putting things into it, working day and night to get money into their bank accounts. Niall was attached too this town. His heart and soul was built along the grounds of this place, and Bressie would have to drag him out -- even then Niall would be fighting for his life. 

Bressie couldn't put all this on Niall, though. He was also a man made to live in the town of Clonakilty and the memories were all golden here. But he wasn't like Niall, he was his own person with his own dreams and aspirations, and all that was wrapped around journalism -- finding something bigger and better. 

His job paid a mediocre amount of money, it wasn't enough for him and Niall since Niall had troubles with his shop and getting people to buy antiques. Some weeks the amount of money Niall earned would only add up to a hundred pounds, so sometimes the weight of it all was all put on Bressie's shoulders. 

He wanted Niall to be happy, wanted them both to be happy. But he had to think as well, Niall wouldn't be truly happy if they left this place. The smaller brunet would just break down, would go crazy under the fast city lights, constant movement, and nights where the city never slept. Bressie didn't want that, and if his own husband wasn't going to be happy, then he would never torture Niall by asking him to come along and being dragged through the mud. Niall's life and future mattered, too.

With that final thought, Bressie made sure to throw away all the thoughts of that job out of his mind. He didn't need that, could live a life perfectly fine as long as Niall was by his side. His real dream was to marry Niall and settle down with him ever since they were little kids. 

He remembers when he was twenty three years old and coming back to town during spring break and going straight to the Horan's, taking sixteen year old Niall into his arms and hugging him like a big brother would to his younger sibling. But it had definitely changed now, and when he came back from College two years later, age of twenty five and ready to settle down. He saw Niall all grown up and not the little kid he used to see on the playground hanging off the monkey bars with his mates. Niall was becoming a man, eighteen years old and glowing, with those rosy cheeks and slim form and his hair bleached blond, looking like a walking criminal. Bressie suddenly had the dirtiest thoughts about at the darkest times at night. 

He hated it at first, remembered how he'd have to trot into his washroom to splash water across his face, like that would wash away the sins he felt he was committing. But just another year later, after agreeing to pick Niall up from high school every morning and being dragged out on drinking trips to the abandoned house just like old times, he was pinning that pretty dyed blond beauty in the backseat of his pickup truck at ten thirty at night right outside the house. They were coming down from their highs after passing around a doobie with alcohol burning their tongues, and Bressie kissed him ‘til they were cumming in their pants, shaking through their orgasms. 

Those memories are too good, too precious, and everything Bressie ever wanted had come true. He hadn't fucked up once, so why should he smash all that to pieces now?

  


  


When he pulled up to their home, the front door was open, letting the cool air into the home since they didn't have the privilege of air-conditioning. Bressie got himself out of the truck, grabbing his journal and some extra loose papers he wanted to bring home to finish. There was pure silence as he walked up to the front porch. No sound of a golf game playing in the living room that Niall would usually be watching, or the sound of sizzling food that he'd see being made for him to come home to. He raised a brow, placing his work stuff down onto the counter in the kitchen before shrugging off his coat and throwing it over one of the dining room chairs. 

"Chief!?" he called out, walking until he noticed the back door was open as well. He smirked as soon as he realized what was happening, walking out and stepping onto the back porch, looking down to see his husband still working away on the vegetable garden. 

He chuckled, and that's when Niall whipped his head up, realizing he was there. Niall looked similar to how he looked yesterday, sweaty and tired as he squinted up through the sun beams to meet Bressie's eyes. He instantly smiled when he noticed Bressie was home, getting up from where he was kneeling over some cucumber plant to walk up along the porch steps and grabbing onto the front of Bressie's dress shirt to give him a wet and messy kiss on the lips. 

Bressie humphed when he pulled back and looked down to see the dirt smeared along the front of his dress shirt from Niall's fingers. The smaller brunet just ignored it, moving in closer and wrapping his arms around Bressie's waist, laying his forehead between the taller man's pecks and rubbing it in to get the sweat off. 

"My greeting is a kiss and hug, and you smearing dirt and sweat all over my nice work clothes, savage you are," Bressie teased, but settled his hands on Niall's hips, squeezing them lightly to make the brunet shiver. 

"I'm sure you'd rather that than me giving you nothing at all, Head." Niall knew he was right by the way his eyes shined, smile growing into a cheeky smirk. 

Bressie rolled his eyes but chuckled, not admitting he'd probably drag Niall up into his arms anyways if the younger lad decided to ignore him. Bressie has went through a stressful day and deserved a good cuddle from the love of his life. 

"Alright, what's up in your head?" Bressie didn't even know he had spaced out until he felt Niall's hands cupping his jaw, focusing his eyes to shift back down to meet with the short brunet’s. Bressie's heart sped up a little bit, him not wanting it to slip about the job application he put in. He had forced himself to believe he didn't care ever since he turned on his truck and left downtown, but now it had snuck up on him and the nerves were back. 

"Nothing, just had a long day is all. M'glad I'm home." Bressie slipped his hands down from where they were along Niall's waist to his husbands hips, thumbs running over the slightly jutted out hipbones. Niall needed to gain some weight on his hips, it was pretty scary how thin he was from the waist down. But he wasn't like Bressie, an old man now who gained 10 pounds by just eating a small bag of crisps, Niall was still a youth-filled young lad who burned it all as easy as it was to eat. 

"That's right you're home, so get your arse in the vegetable garden and help me pack down a row of tomato plants so tomorrow I don't have to go back out here." Niall patted Bressie on the shoulder, smirking cheekily before spinning on his heels and descending back down the porch steps, back to the veggie garden. Bressie would've laughed and told anyone else to screw off and let him go pass out in the living room watching Rugby, but Niall gave him that hypnotizing look over his pale freckled shoulder -- all sunburnt from the abnormally hot Irish weather -- and Bressie was pulled in like a puppet on a string. 

  


  


It was a week later, Bressie was sat in his office chair like every day -- except on weekends when he has the days off -- editing one of his coworkers articles when Ronny came spinning around the corner of his cubicle, almost falling face first into the edge of Bressie's desk. He flinched in surprise, not really in the mood for his mates energetic personality, but he could see Ron had a handful of papers crushed in his hand, shaking them about and smiling so big it looked like the corners of his lips were touching his ears. 

"Relax mate, what the hell are you on about?" Bressie chuckled to lighten the weird mood that was hovering over the atmosphere, Ronny just staring and smiling at him, shaking like a leaf. It was a few seconds later that Ronny yelped out and started doing a weird jig, throwing the papers right into Bressie's lap and moving a hand into Bressie's hair to mess it all up. 

The papers on his lap and what they said was what drove Bressie out of his annoyance, blinking down dumbly at what he was reading, mouth hung open in disbelief. 

_ "Dear Mister Breslin, _

_ We read over your resume and all of us at The Daily Telegraph were thoroughly impressed with your work and skills. We understand that you live in Ireland, but we are offering you a job and a place to stay, as a thank you for working with us and joining our team. Please contact us as soon as possible, so we can settle some more minor details concerning your new employment with this company. _

_ Francis F, The Telegraph" _

He had to read it over and over again, out loud and in his head, putting his finger along each word to guide him through the one simple paragraph that might've just changed his life. Ronny was still beaming in front of him, not being able to stay still in excitement, bouncing off his heels. 

"You're a bloody legend Breslin, look at this shit! You just made it into The Telegraph." 

Bressie didn't even know what to say at Ronny's words, realizing that this was real and he actually just got offered the job of a lifetime. The job he thought he could only dream about. All he could do was slump back into his office chair, the leather letting him sink deeply into the chair comfortably. 

"I-I didn't think I'd get it..." He mumbled, setting the papers onto his desk shakily before running his fingers roughly through his already messy hair. "Fuckin' hell." 

Ron scoffed, "Of course you got it. I had no doubt in my mind as soon as I read your resume. Everyone knew you'd get it, and look at that, we were right." He was pointing very fiercely at Bressie, looking like he was actually physically vibrating he was so happy. 

Bressie wished he could feel like that, but the excitement was drawn back hard at the realization that he hadn't told Niall any of this, and now he has to go home and drop this mother of all bombs onto his husband. It wasn't going to be pretty, Bressie just knew that already, and he cringed. 

"What's that face for?" Ron was smiling in amusement for only a second before that smile faltered, now he looked almost angry. "You're gonna take the job, right? There is no fucking way you're gonna start having second thoughts now." 

Bressie immediately answered, quick to brush that accusation off. "Of course I'm gonna take the job… or, I want to. But, you know Niall, Ron. He doesn't like the big cities, would never want to come with me there, and with such short notice." As Bressie explained all the cons to his friend, that's when it really started to sink in how much shit he was going to be in. 

"Well didn't you talk to him about this already? I'm sure with a little persuasion he'll do it." Ronny was shrugging as if there wasn't a problem. 

There probably wouldn't have been if Bressie wasn't such a dumbass. He could've sat Niall down after whatever they were doing that day and explain what he had done, and yeah Niall would've gotten angry at first, but the days after would have given Bressie time to slowly reel him in. 

"Mate..." Ron noticed his hesitation, was blinking stupidly at Bressie as he leaned against the desk. "You didn't tell him, did you? Of-fucking-course." He threw his hands up in frustration and slapped them back down loudly against his thighs. 

"I didn't think I'd get the job Ron! A guy like me in some small town right smack in the middle of Ireland would never get a chance like this. I just did it ‘cause I wanted you off my back, and for the fun of it." Bressie was running his palms roughly over his face, like he was trying to rub off the stress from his expression. 

"Well, good luck going to London now. Niall is one stubborn lad, and pretty scary when he gets annoyed. You're gonna get shredded." Ron wasn't being very helpful anymore, shaking his head in disappointment before hoisting himself back off the desk and walking out of the cubicle. He stopped and placed a hand on the wall, patting at it with a sympathetic smile.

"If he doesn't want to go, it won't hurt to still go Brez. Niall shouldn't be the one stopping you from doing what you love." 

It was wrong what Ronny said -- Niall was Bressie's life, his beating heart, and one to pick him up at the hardest times. If Niall didn't like this, didn't want to be any part of this job that moved them to somewhere filled to the brim with fancy city folks, thrn Bressie wouldn't know what to do, would never want to leave his husband for just a job. 

Yeah, just a job, or more like one of the most important and high-class jobs across London. Something he couldn't just try to get another time. This was a one-time deal. 

  


  


Ron had given him a knowing look when he packed his stuff up and grabbed at his coat on the hanger. Ron was still sat at his own desk, looking over some file, but his eyes flickered towards Bressie and looked torn between disappointed and sympathetic. 

"Have a nice night Ron, see you on Monday yeah?" Bressie looked over his shoulder as he walked towards the doors of the building, waving lightly and only getting a small smile back before Ron was shifting in his seat and leaning back over his desk to read. It was like Ron was the one who had the huge dilemma of either getting the job, or losing his goddamn husband. 

Bressie didn't want to get angry, getting caught up in that kind of emotion was just going to be a bigger storm for him when he got home. He bottled it up fast and tight, focusing on getting into his truck and starting it up, then driving away from the curb to get on the road home. 

On his way to the house, he was actually doing the speed limit for once, his mind all mangled as he tried to imagine all the scenarios that could play out once he stepped foot in their home. He recited some words that he could say to calm Niall down, tried to replay situations where Niall might be beyond angry to prepare himself, but they haven't been in a huge fight before. Nothing but small banter, or a short fit of yelling back and forth ‘til they were drained from their spike of adrenaline. 

He does remember the worst fight they had though. It was during a stressful time, getting their wedding together and setting up guest lists and deciding where the venue would be, what food they wanted, what colour flowers would be the centrepiece of all the tables. Bressie wanted to invite one of his mates from Dublin, Jamie, who got him through College while he was there -- had guided him around the city streets and kept him safe and secure. But he had come over for a visit three weeks before the wedding and looked more than shocked to find out how young Niall was compared to Bressie. 

There was never really a chat on the age difference. Bressie didn't think there needed to be some kind of long conversation about how Niall was way younger than him. They didn't look too far apart, and Bressie wasn't sixty years old with grey hairs and wrinkles. He was only thirty-six, a still youthful age. But apparently it was some agonizing shock to Jamie, and he wasn't being subtle at all that he didn't approve of it. 

It ended with Niall giving him a pissed off comment back when Jamie had blurted out once again on how Bressie should probably  _ 'keep on looking for the right one.’  _ Jamie had started chuckling and looking up at Niall, who looked like he had been slapped. An  _ 'excuse me?'  _ passed his lips before Niall was had a fit and stood up from his seat right in the middle of their dinner, screaming at Jamie to _ 'get the hell out of my house.'  _

Bressie had tried to defuse the situation, placed hands on Niall's hips and locked Niall in place as the smaller brunet was trying to lunge towards Jamie. 

Jamie wasn't moving an inch from his seat at their dining room table, looking stubborn and more than insulted. Niall wasn't a man to get physical, never did lay a hand on anyone, but his face was a burning red and eyes black as he narrowed them towards Jamie. Bressie really couldn't do anything to calm him, and had to turn from where he was failing to tame his fiancé to tell Jamie to kindly leave, and that they'll talk later. Jamie had left pretty fast after that, and Bressie had called his mate after everything died down, but he never got a call back. 

The fight after the front door shut behind his friend went from teeth-clenched bickering to full-on screaming. It ended with Niall rushing up the stairs and slamming their bedroom door so hard Bressie swore the houses walls shook. It was resolved though, after Bressie had realized his friend wasn't really a friend no matter how much he had helped him through his hard times along in Dublin, because no friend would want to split you and your future husband or wife apart, that was just cruel. 

Niall didn't even look him in the eye when Bressie had walked into their room, seeing the blond tuft of hair that he had dyed back then under the fluffy white duvet. He apologized about five times before Niall poked his head up and gave Bressie a watery smile, looking near tears as he wrapped himself around Bressie like a koala, whispering  _ 'I never want to fight again, I hate it,’ _ into his ear. 

He agreed of course, but now Niall's wish was probably not going to come true. Bressie felt something tighten around his heart as he saw their driveway come into view. Time was ticking by fast, and he was already pulling in and moving slowly down the dirt road, the beacon to his doom being their house that he could see as clear as day now. 

He kept himself contained though, did some breathing exercises as he parked and slumped in his seat. The front door wasn't opened, the weather being ruthless these past couple days, raining unforgivingly against their roof. They had used up all their buckets, and had resort to using the frying pans tucked away in the kitchen. Even then they were coming to their last one. The rain was relentless and hitting the roof hard throughout long nights, and finally their ancient roof had showed how old it really was, now needing to be fixed. 

That was just another reason to take the job. Bressie could list all the things that needed to be repaired and replaced. With his new job and new monthly paychecks that will probably pay triple the amount compared to his job now, he could fix everything in the house that needed to be patched up, and have it looking brand new again. He noted it in his head before he finally got the courage to open his door and hop outside, grabbing his work and trotting his way up the porch, opening the door to the house. 

The smell of food cooking was something Bressie loved the most when he came home from a long week. Niall usually didn't cook alone, the younger brunet would shove Bressie into the kitchen to help him chop veggies or watch the food on the burner, and be a taste-tester that usually got asked  _ 'is it too salty?' _ or  _ 'does it need more spice, or is it too spicy?'  _

But Fridays were usually when Niall liked to buckle down and do his own thing, and it was kind of like a thanks to Bressie for doing all his hard work and long hours. Niall had his fair share of hours as well, but he didn't have a boss shoving task after task down his throat. 

It was nice of course, all this, but now it was going to be even harder to tell his husband the news. 

"Fuckin' hell, thought you'd never show up,” Niall grumbled playfully from where he was chopping up a pepper. It looked like he was making stir fry, the rice was already settled inside the pan with teriyaki sauce, broccoli, carrots, and beef. 

"Sorry Chief, long day once again." Bressie settled all his things down and then moved to where Niall was still focused hard on his chopping skills. He snaked his hands around the brunet's waist, hooking his chin over Niall's shoulder to watch peacefully. 

Niall looked over, straining his neck to meet Bressie's eyes since they were in a little bit of an awkward position. "You look exhausted Head, you need a kip first before dinner? I can reheat everything when you wake up." 

Niall was an angel, but Bressie shook his head and decided to occupy himself by kissing Niall silly, leaving smooches one after the other along the brunet's cheek and short scruff along his jaw. It was something new that Bressie never knew he liked, a small bit of stubble that made the little Niall he knew for so long become not-so-little anymore. Niall was actually against the beard for a long time, and still was  sometimes. He would usually be freshly shaven at the end of every one or two weeks. 

"I'm fine, just glad I'm home." He moved his arms away from Niall's waist to stretch them over his head, feeling his spine pop blissfully, his muscles stretching and un-stiffening after the many hours of sitting at his desk -- a con to his job aside from the deadlines. 

He felt something poke at his lips, and he wasn't really paying attention, was focused up at the ceiling mid-stretch still. Bressie looked down, snorting at the pepper that got shoved into his mouth, Niall gave him a cheeky grin, whipping his head back to the cutting board. 

The pepper was bitter, and he never really had a liking for them raw -- always liked them cooked more than anything, or if not at least with some veggie dip -- but he chewed it happily, watching silently as Niall moved to the pan and dropped the diced peppers into the middle of it. The oil sizzled loudly at the new food landing into the pan. 

"How was your day?" Bressie asked when he gulped down the pepper, Niall now delicately stirring the food around with a spoon. 

Bressie watched him shrug, now looking a little deflated. "Fine… Good. Didn't get the total I wanted for the end of the week like I wanted, again."

"It's been stormy all week, people haven't been wanting to go outside and walk around downtown. You'll do fine when the sun comes out again." Niall didn't look satisfied with Bressie's answer, but tried his hardest not to show his disappointment, looking down at the food with his brown fringe falling into his face to try and block Bressie from seeing his expression. 

"It's alright love, you'll be back on your feet again like always yeah? You've owned that business for forever now." Bressie moved to go and comfort Niall. The brunet looked disinterested at first, but once Bressie's arms were around his shoulders he grew limp, forehead resting on Bressie's chest and hands gripping at the front of his shirt. It was an instant relaxation that blanketed over them, being in each other's arms. 

"It's the third week in a row where I've gone below the amount I should usually be getting. I-I think I need to close shop, just let it all go." Niall wasn't crying, but his voice wavered at the end of his confession. 

Bressie was more than shocked though, and had to pull away and grab Niall by the shoulders, looking straight into his husbands eyes as if he'd catch the glint of a joke. But Niall wasn't smiling, his eyes only met Bressie's for a second before they drifted down to the floor between their feet. 

"You will fuckin' not. Niall, babe, think about that for a second. It's just been three weeks, wait a little longer!" Niall was shaking his head before Bressie even finished his sentence, but at least he wasn't moving away from his grip, still standing in Bressie's hold. 

"If I wait any longer we'll be broke, Brez! I can't go on like this. I need to find myself another job before we have to sell the house and move in with one of our parents. I will not let you take the weight of the bills and pay for both of us because I can't seem to get myself together." Niall was overreacting, and it looked like the stress was finally pouring out like a dame had broken. Bressie waited ‘til he was completely done talking before he answered softly. 

"We aren't going to become broke, we aren't moving in with any of our parents, and you aren't gonna sell the shop." Bressie could feel his own confession was going to spill out soon. This was his time to tell Niall what happened, and he needed to do this before it was too late. Even though the devil on his shoulder was telling him not to tell Niall at all, just keep on pushing it back till the last minute. 

"Listen.” He moved closer to Niall, shifting his hands from his husband’s shoulders to his biceps, squeezing them comfortingly. He took a deep breath before continuing. "I-I sent in a résumé for a job offer that was posted, and just today I received a letter back from them saying that I got the job." It was a very vague explanation to it all, there was so much more to it, but he wanted to go in slow and didn't want to just dump everything on Niall. 

He looked confused, of course, blinking up at Bressie with a frown still planted along his expression. It didn't give Bressie any insight into where this was going, and it made him stiffen, sweat building at his hairline. He had the nerves bad, and all that preparing in his truck had gone to waste now that he'd faced with the reality of it all. 

"Ya got a job? Wow… Brez that's amazing. I'm proud of you, I know you've been wanting to get away from the other company for a while." Niall was generally happy for him, even through the anxiety and pain, Niall was smiling fondly up at him. But Bressie felt like it was all wrong, he was still holding in too much information, secrets he would've never wanted to keep from the man he trusted and loved the most. 

"So… Where's it at? I've seen a couple adverts from journalist companies a few towns over taped to the lampposts around here. Did you get one of those?" 

Bressie almost felt dizzy, and didn't even realize he wasn't answering to anything that Niall was asking him. He was so far into his own head at the moment, it felt like Niall was a lost echo in his brain, faded out from all the noise of his regrets.

"Brez?" Niall kept on talking, never stopped. But Bressie could see the transformation in the younger brunet's expression, how the content smile was turning into a frown, and the glisten and glimmer of his eyes started to cloud over in confusion. 

But then, there was realization, and Bressie cringed. 

"It's not a few towns over, is it?" Niall hit the nail right on the head at that, but he wasn't quite there yet. He was getting closer to what Bressie was desperately trying to get the courage to say, but it felt almost easy to have Niall slowly connect the dots. 

"Breslin answer me for fucks sake." 

He flinched, hands slumping off Niall's biceps and settling at his own sides. Now Niall was mad, agitated at being ignored and blocked away. Bressie couldn't play the silent game any longer, so he spoke timidly. 

"I honestly didn't think I'd get this job, love, just did it cause Ronny and my boss were on my arse about it and I just wanted to see what would happen." Dragging all this out wasn't helping, because Niall looked almost scared now, the way his brows furrowed and how his shoulders started collapsing into himself protectively. 

"It's in London, England. I-I got a job to be a journalist for The Daily Telegraph." He let it all out in one breath, staring at Niall with so much desperation in his eyes. He didn't know what he was waiting for, or what he was hoping for, but he hated, absolutely loathed the look that became a shadow across his face at Bressie's words. 

"London." Niall's sounded like he didn't trust his own voice, it was breathless and quiet. It felt like the calm before the storm. 

"Yes, and I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you sooner Chief, but I never thought ever in my life that I'd get this kind of job. They said in the letter that they sent to me that they can set me up with a flat, get me settled as I start to get used to working there. We can have our own little place.... For a little while, at least. Then, when we have enough money we can move your shop down there." Bressie was babbling now, trying to get all these pros out to persuade Niall before he said no. But his expression didn't change, it still looked stone cold and extremely disappointed. 

Then Niall laughed, but it wasn't real, it was dripping with anger and disbelief. 

"You know me enough by now to know I don't go to the big cities. Over my dead body am I going to be surrounded by snobby and rude city folks." Niall's voice was raising with each word. "I thought you didn't like the big cities either? You hated Dublin, Brez, what the fuck suddenly changed your mind?" 

"Niall, I am not just thinking about the damn city. I don't like them, I still don't. But this job is high-paying and one of my dreams. I'm not gonna just turn away from it just ‘cause I'm not used to places like that." He was trying his best the fan out the flames before they both got caught in a fire, but Niall's cheeks were red and eyes dark just like during their last fight. It pained Bressie's heart when he watched Niall take a step away from him while shaking his head. 

"So I'm guessing you're gonna go no matter what I say, right?" Niall had his lips in a tight thin line as he occupied himself by turning off the burner. He turned back around to face Bressie right after, the food forgotten. Dinner was obviously not going to happen, at least not right now. 

"I would rather not go knowing my husband is upset with me, but I would really love to do this and get us a better life." Bressie was taken-back by the way Niall scoffed, and he felt this flip in emotion slowly starting to overcome him. Niall was acting like a child, and he’d never seen him like this, being so sarcastic and snotty. 

"Well, you should know that I'll be upset with you no matter what the hell you say. You kept this from me for how long? A week? Get a grip, Brez." Niall's teeth were snapped together as he spoke, hissing at Bressie with words of pure frustration that Bressie understood he deserved. 

"Well, what would you have said if I would've told you this the day I sent it out? You would've said no anyways. That's another reason I didn't tell you, because there was no way you were going to support me on this." Bressie threw his hands up in the air in defeat, his civil behaviour slowly escaping from his control. He turned away from Niall and started walking away, done with the conversation, but Niall was right at his heels following him into the living room. 

"Don't walk away from me! You aren't just gonna disappear and hide somewhere and think that's going to solve anything!" Niall was pointing a very stiff and accusing finger at him right at Bressie's chest. 

"Yelling and acting like a complete child isn't going to solve anything either, Ni!" Bressie yelled that out right after Niall had screamed at him, not enjoying the finger being shoved at his chest and being scolded. His voice was louder than he thought it would be, and it rung throughout their household. It felt wrong, out of place, like it was tainting all the happiness and perfect memories that roamed throughout their home.

Fighting was just so wrong and Bressie felt this chunk of his heart get taken out by how angry Niall's expression was still. 

"I-I understand that I made a mistake, I should've told you, please realize that I know that, Niall. I never wanted to hurt you like this, and I promise it won't be that bad once we try it out." Niall wasn't meeting his eyes, but he wasn't yelling either, so Bressie thought that was a step in the right direction at least. 

"You can go," Niall spoke but he was staring hard down at the floor, "But I'm not coming with you. You'll have to drag me by my hair against my will out of this town." Bressie deflated at that, sighing loudly and moving his hands up to his face to rub it to ease the stress in his muscles. Niall didn't want to go, that was final, but Bressie could still go, right? That's what he said, even though the smaller brunet didn't sound very sure about his own words that came from his mouth. 

"If I go, will you still love me even though we're miles apart?" It was cheesy, but Niall had this look of softness come into his gaze when he finally looked up and met Bressie's eyes. 

"I will never stop loving you," Niall mumbled, and then he was off and turning to go back into the kitchen. 

Bressie expected them to hug and kiss and makeup, but instead he was looking at his husband’s back as he walked away from Bressie. 

"You're still mad," Bressie pointed out. He knew if Niall was going to hide his feelings like he was doing right now, it was going to be days before he'd actually get back to himself again. But Bressie didn't know how long he'd be here for, since he was ninety-nine percent sure he was taking the job now -- nothing was stopping him, not even his husband. 

"Of course I am, Head. I'm gonna be like this until I get everything processed n'stuff. Just, need some time to myself." Niall was grabbing at a plate from the cabinet, only one for himself and putting some of the stir fry onto his plate. He walked right past Bressie like he wasn't even there right after, and Bressie listened to the echo of Niall's footsteps walking up the stairs, then the soft close of their bedroom door. 

Bressie didn't even have a reaction until he had his food and was sitting at the empty dining room table. Staring at the back door and at the setting sun, complete silence acting like a toxic gas filling the room and leaving Bressie with a permanent tightness in his chest. 

It wasn't some deadly chemical though, it was his anxiety and stress catching up with him and he had to slam his fist down onto the table to let out all the anger he felt, and desperately tamed so Niall wouldn't absolutely hate him before he left. 

"Fuck," he growled out, closing his eyes tight and biting at the inside of his cheek. His blunt fingernails dug into the palm of his hand that was still in a stiff fist. The pain felt good, and he pressed harder. 

  


  


Niall wasn't talking to Bressie. He didn't talk to him when Bressie came home from work on Monday to tell  Niall he emailed the company back with confirmation that he'll take the job, and that they told him they'll have a flight ready for him in three days. He didn't talk to him when Bressie was packing and asked where his rugby jersey was. He didn't even talk during dinner time when they sat around the table. Niall would just sit there and eat, and never look up from his plate until he was lifting himself out of his chair and walking out of the room to start the dishes. 

It was pure torture for Bressie, and now he was sitting on the couch with his luggage by his side, one hand on the handle of one of his suitcases and another settled on his lap, picking at a rip in his jeans. His flight was at 11am, so he needed to leave early to beat the traffic and get to Dublin in time. 

Ronny was coming to pick him up, kind enough to take the day off from work to drive him to Dublin. Bressie appreciated it, but he'd rather have Niall tag along with him so he could be with the brunet a little while longer. But he remembered Niall's words,  _ 'you'll have to drag me by my hair against my will out of this town' _ , so it was out of the question to have his husband go to Dublin with him, not even to say goodbye. 

It wasn't  _ goodbye, _ goodbye though. It was just a  _ 'see you later' _ until Bressie's job is stable enough, and he could get himself enough money to travel back and forth. This job was going to pay him more than well, so the money would stack up soon. Unless they hated and fired him, but that was something to worry about later. 

"You ready mate?" Ronny wasn't being very quiet even when it was the morning, and Bressie's sensitive ears rung and made him hold back a sour expression. Niall was still asleep in their room too, or at least Bressie thought he was. Bressie had  been sleeping on the couch ever since he told Niall about the job. 

"Just gonna say goodbye to Niall." He stood up and smiled half-heartedly at Ron, who seemed to see right through him. But he didn't say anything, just walked over and took Bressie's bags, starting to walk towards the door. Bressie tried to object to his friend caring all his things, but Ron was already walking down the porch steps. 

Bressie made his way up the staircase, still trying to be as quiet as possible. There were nerves building up in his chest again, and he was praying to any god that was listening for Niall to just give him one word or some kind of action to show he was sincere about keeping this relationship. Bressie wouldn't know what to do if this all ended, he'd be nothing, everything around him would mean nothing. 

The door was opened a crack, not completely closed, so maybe that was a good start. He tapped at the door softly, letting it creak opened until it hit lightly at the wall. There was only a tuft of brown hair swimming in the large white duvet and pillows. But when Bressie came closer, right on his toes to try and make no sound, he almost flinched when Niall's eyes opened and shifted to meet his. 

"I've got to get going now, Chief." Bressie took Niall's eye contact as an invitation to move closer and kneel down to his husbands level. He smiled warmly when Niall shifted onto his side and placed an elbow down onto the mattress to lift himself up, eyes looking droopy and like he hasn't had a good sleep in days. It wouldn't be surprising if he really didn't, Bressie was a wreck too and barely shut his eyes the past couple of nights.

"You're gonna call me when you land, right?" Bressie couldn't help but smile hearing Niall's voice, and he nodded immediately at the question, shifting so one hand was moving to settle on Niall's hip over the covers. 

"I'll call you when I land. I'll call you when I'm done my first day. I'll call you every night ‘til you get annoyed with me." Bressie was sincere in what he was saying, looking into Niall's eyes and trying to find some other dimension in them. He wanted to show that he wasn't just going to leave. He was leaving, yeah, but there was no way he was just going to leave his husband in the dust. 

"You know I'll never get annoyed with you Brez," Niall snorted and looked down at the sheets, smoothing out the creases and wrinkles in it. He was probably only doing that to occupy himself so he wouldn't have to meet Bressis's eyes. "FaceTime or Skype me too, okay?" Niall finished with a soft tone, his smile was dying down and melting off his face, knowing the time was coming for them to part.

"I will do exactly that," Bressie confirmed, and then looked over his shoulder towards the open door to their bedroom, sighing loudly. "I love you, okay? Soon enough I'll get a week off, and I'll be back in no time." He leaned forward, puckering his lips for a kiss that Niall gladly returned, both sinking into each others embrace. 

They detached sluggishly, both looking into each others watery eyes. Bressie could see how hard Niall was trying not to cry, the way he sucked in his bottom lip hard when their lips parted. 

"I don't want to forget what that feels like, you hear me, Chief?" He was trying to make a joke, trying to laugh their last kiss together -- at least for a while -- off with it, but Bressie could hear the wobble in his voice and how he sniffled loudly right after. 

"I won't let you get to that point." 

He stood, moving away from Niall and backing out of the room with one last  _ 'I love you'  _ passing his lips before he turned around to walk down the steps and out of the house. 

  


  


It was hectic, of course, when he landed. Heathrow was some zoo as he walked off the plane, and into the building. It only took him an hour to get to London, but he hadn't been on a plane since he was ten, when he went to Italy for a week with his parents, so Bressie's legs felt like jelly from all his nerves as soon as the plane lifted off into the air. 

People were yelling left and right, laughing or rushing past him with luggage or kids behind them. Everyone was shoulder to shoulder, shoving through to get to their own destinations. Bressie couldn't help but immediately shift his mind to Niall, imagining how panicky and sick Niall would feel in this place. 

He was happy to get outside when he squeezed through the last of the people inside the airport.  The air was a little cold, similar to Ireland, so he zipped up his coat that he had slung over his suitcase. As he was doing so, he noticed a man standing near the curb with a sign, the name  _ "Niall Breslin" _ printed on the front with bold typed-out letters. He knew there was someone picking him up, but didn't expect this kind of fancy welcome. 

"Uh.” He walked over almost timidly, stopping in front of the man who blinked up at him. He looked intimidated, of course, usually everyone was when they first saw his size. "I'm Niall Breslin." He didn't really know what to say, and awkwardly pointed at himself with a crooked smile coming across his face, attempting to look friendly. 

"Ah, Mister Breslin it's nice to finally meet you! Name's Patrick, but just call me Pat. I'm one of your new colleagues at The Telegraph, and I'll be taking you to the new flat that we set up for you." His accent was very fast-paced and posh, an energetic tone laced within it as well as he lightly jumped on his heels. 

He reached a hand out and Bressie gladly shook it, letting the man escort him to his car before they settled inside. It was starting to drizzle outside by the looks of the small splatters along the windshield. 

"So, you're from Ireland. Dublin, I'm guessing?" Pat asked when he drove away from the curb and started to drive towards the street. It was busy still, and the car was barely moving as it slowly rolled through the traffic of everyone trying to get out of the airports parking lot at once. 

"No, I-I don't think you'll know the place but I'm from Clonakilty, it's a couple hours from Dublin." By the way Pat's face contorted into confusion and thought, Bressie knew he didn't know where it was. That was what he usually got while studying in Dublin. When his fellow classmates would ask him where he was from, they'd usually just give him a blank stare whenever he answered. 

"Sounds like a nice little town, haven't been there." Pat wasn't one of those people though, he seemed cool with the information, not just looking at Bressie like he was dumb. He didn't even blink, just kept his eyes on the road and turned on the windshield wipers as the rain started to pour down harder. 

"It's not really much to go to, unless you like going to the beach and vacationing at seaside towns. We've got a lovely coast." 

Pat nodded with his bottom lip jutted out in amusement, looking impressed at the information. 

"Probably didn't think a lad like you in a town like that would get a job like this!" Pat joked, moving a hand out to make some wild gesture over his head before he placed both hands back onto the steering wheel. 

Bressie could relate wholeheartedly to what his new friend was saying, and man, did he wish he could tell this guy how much shit he'd been through to get there. But he'd rather not overwhelm Pat, since they just met. 

  


  


Bressie had kept his promises -- for a week, then two, then three, and then weeks turned to months. He always called Niall, always sent him little texts when he finished meetings or finished editing an article, sending it to his boss to get published. 

Niall was the sun in his solar system that he orbited around happily. He had even set a time every night after he'd get home, lying on the couch of his decently sized living room to chat with his husband for hours. 

Sometimes he'd get home late though. Have long, long days that were more lengthy than his last job in Clonakilty. His eyes would barely be open as he would stumble through the door of his flat, blindly throwing his jacket onto the kitchen table before he'd flop down onto the first soft surface he'd set his eyes on. But Niall would still be waiting, would pick up on the second or third ring and warmly greet him, asking how his day went. 

Bressie's days were going fine, he'd always tell Niall that. But Niall, well, he was still struggling back home. The shop was still not doing very well, and there had been three times where Niall would start getting all sniffly on the other end and have to stop before he'd start crying. 

Those were the times where Bressie would have to stay up a little longer than he'd like, tell his husband to get on to FaceTime so they could talk face to face. All the worries of being tired in the morning from staying up too late were thrown out of his mind, because Niall always came first. It was painful to see Niall like that, teary eyed and fragile on the other end of the phone, looking defeated. Bressie would feel the hurt and sadness flow through him like an electric current connected to them both, attached to them ever since they first became boyfriends. 

But Bressie was getting more and more money, he had never seen his bank account this loaded with money before. He told Niall that every time the younger one started ranting to him about financial issues. It was getting to the point where Bressie had almost saved enough to get a plane ticket back to Ireland. Just another week or so, and he could start booking his flight. He knew it felt like forever, too long to be away from someone you love, so he needed to get his arse back home and kiss his husband silly. 

It had been another long day at work, his hands full with paper-printed drafts of the articles that he was working on. He had to use his elbow to get into his flat, shoving the door opened with his foot and sighing loudly when he the familiar scent and warmth of his home consumed him. 

He knew Niall would be waiting for him, on Skype this time as they planned last night, so he flopped all his things down onto his kitchen counter and grabbed himself a glass of wine (that he came to like, ever since adjusting to being a city boy),  then rushed off to his laptop and sunk into his couch. 

He clicked on Niall's username, nursing his wine delicately for only a minute or so before it stopped loading, and he was met with his husbands beautiful face. He looked a little rough, eyes looking droopy, hair getting long and stubble coming back, but he was the same Niall that made Bressie want to grab at his cheeks through the screen and kiss right smack on the lips ‘til they were numb. 

"Well hello, Chief." Bressie smiled as wide as he could through his exhaustion, trying to hide his wine so he wouldn't have to hear the endless teasing from Niall about how much of a  _ 'city folk'  _ he had become. 

Bressie promised he hadn't changed that much. He’d maybe bought himself a couple suits, and had far too many steaks from gourmet restaurants that his colleagues keep taking him to, but that's been all. He still missed home, the smell of manure in the mornings, and looking out his bedroom window to see endless fields and the ocean by the town. He missed all those things more than anything. 

"Hello Head, you look tired." Niall pointed that out immediately with no hesitation, and Bressie chuckled and nodded. "If you're too tired to talk tonight, we can always Skype tomorrow." Niall was trying to be nice, Bressie could tell, but the way the smaller brunet’s happy expression faltered showed he didn't really want Bressie to leave just yet. 

"M'fine love, I've gotta get used to long days so keeping me up will only do me good. You look more tired than me, though." 

Niall shrugged at Bressie's observation, running a hand through his hair and giving it a soft tug, he sighed loudly. "Just miss you a lot, miss you every day." Niall mumbled the words, but Bressie heard them loud and clear through the speakers of his laptop, and he smiled sadly at the screen, looking into the little camera at the top. 

"Miss you, too. Love you though, remember." Bressie managed to sneak that in, and Niall laughed softly, nodding at his words, but still looking a little off. 

"It's boring around here, nothing to do. There's not enough golf on tv to occupy myself," Niall responded. Bressie could just imagine his husband sat in the living room, flipping aimlessly through channel after channel with a beer in his hand trying to find something to watch ‘til he felll asleep. It was a cute thing to imagine, and he tried not to show his adoration across his face when he answered. 

"Come on, there's gotta be something you could do. You were kneeled in a vegetable garden for a good week, find some new seeds downtown. Or I don't know, have a wank." Bressie chuckled loudly at that, taping at the glass of his wine that he still held away from Niall's sight. 

"Having a wank doesn't really work anymore when you know you've got a hot husband that could make you feel a lot better than just your hand." Niall had a good point, and raised a brow with a little blush coating his cheeks. 

"Well I'm here right now, could wank to my face right now if ya want." Bressie had no idea where this was going, and didn't really know if it was the wine talking or his own sexual deprivation catching up on him. But Niall was hesitating on the protest he was about to spit out, now shifting along the couch he was sitting on and chewing at his lip to think. 

"Isn't that a little weird though, wanking off in front of each other? I know we have obviously done it before but like, we've only done it in person." Niall was looking around as if someone was going to hear what he was saying, and it was amusing to see how he was already squirming with want. Bressie knew Niall was interested, but he wasn't surprised the Irish lad was unsure at first. 

Bressie set his wineglass down onto his coffee table, deciding to start things off by popping his dress slacks opened, undoing the zipper and letting it come more undone as he parted his legs further. Niall's eyes looked more fuzzy now, the way they grew all filtered and bright when they saw the invitation Bressie was giving him. 

He didn't stop there, his patience leaving him as the sexual tension grew like a hot steam in the air. Bressie hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his trousers, shuffling them down his hips and letting them stop at his knees once they were shimmied off his thighs. 

He couldn't see himself, but it must've been a flattering sight by the way Niall's lips separated and a hot breath passed them, his pink little tongue sticking out almost like he was imagining himself licking at Bressie's dick. 

It was hard to not just grab at his boxers and tug them down as well, start wanking himself off. But he waited with his hard self poking from the little fabric left hiding his manhood. Niall was still not getting undressed, and Bressie raised a questioning brow, making sure to look obvious as he raked his eyes down Niall's chest. 

"You're a menace, Breslin," Niall mumbled, sounding breathless. But right after he said that, he was tugging down the joggers he had on, something he had probably changed into after he got home from work. 

Bressie wished he had the luxury of doing that, but he didn't get high pay by just sitting around and getting home before dinner, he worked his arse off day and night. 

"Haven't seen you look like this in months," Bressie stumbled out, once Niall was in the same position he was in, both only in their boxers and shirts. Niall was wise enough to move his laptop onto the coffee table, so Bressie could see his whole body and the particularly unmissable bulge between his legs. 

"’Course you haven't, we didn't even have a goodbye shag." 

Bressie didn't really want to remember that time, that was just filled with bad memories and that fight that lead to them not talking -- and not sleeping since they thought separating before Bressie would leave for London for a few months would be a good idea. 

It haunts Bressie a lot, and he regrets not doing something to get them to have a better time with each other before he got on the plane. But there was no way of doing that now, so all Bressie could do was change the subject. 

"Well we're here now, so let me see you take the rest of your gear off and maybe do a spin for me? Hm?" Bressie wasn't really good with the dirty talk. Being his age, he wasn't really into it either, but he learned that Niall was a little spunk, loved getting talked to while they had a good fuck. 

He tried to get better, using more and more dirty words in bed, so maybe he can test the waters now, since words were probably going to be the only other way to get them off besides their own hands.

He watched silently as Niall did as he was told, hands moving to grip at his shirt and pull it over his head, throwing it to the floor as soon as it was off. He didn't look at Bressie yet, kept his eyes focused on something off the screen as he moved to grab at his boxers, shoving them down his skinny legs to meet with his jeans before he had wiggled out of everything. 

There he was, all in his glory in front of Bressie, looking just as pretty as he did the last time he saw the younger lad naked. Niall obviously wasn't really in front of Bressie, not between his legs or a foot away from him for Bressie to easily lean over and grab to tug into his lap. 

He wished he could do that right now, take Niall's boney hips into his hands, to cup and to mould to his own body for a tight embrace. He missed the rough, but pleasurable, electric feeling of their skin on skin contact, the brush against one another that made the chemistry ten times more powerful between them. 

Bressie was leaking from his tip now, could see it dripping down the mushroom head when he flickered his gaze towards his groin. Everything had gotten him all buzzed up, and he had to move his hands out to squeeze at his thighs, forcing himself to not touch his dick before he got to the good part. 

Niall was turning now, dick bobbing in small circles as he spun slowly. Bressie groaned at the sight of his husband’s perky little bum, a perfect handful for him, but something he sadly couldn't grab. He imagined the feeling anyways, when he'd have Niall riding him on the couch of their home at midnight when they couldn't sleep, his hands would be attached like glue to the brunet’s bum, squeezing and holding it as if it was a lifeline. 

Niall stopped when his bum was facing the camera completely, and Bressie swore his heart fell into his stomach when he saw Niall lean forward to grab at the back of the couch, bending in half and curving his back up to point his rear up into the air, revealing his hole. 

"God, Chief you're killing me. You're gonna kill me." Bressie spoke as if he had been slapped, fingernails now curling into the insides of his naked thighs and teeth clenching together as he put every muscle in his body to work to keep him from touching himself. 

"Want ya in me, Brez, need it." Niall sounded just as out of it, like he was high as he breathed shallowly and slowly made his way back to show his front off to Bressie, lips wet with spit from him biting them raw. 

"Sit on the couch, spread your legs and show me how much you want it." Bressie didn't know if he liked having this much dominance, he usually just went with the flow of their sex and did whatever came to happen. But apparently tonight was going to be him in control, and by the way Niall eagerly flopped onto the couch and spread his legs, Bressie guessed the brunet was more than enjoying it. 

He watched as Niall sucked two fingers into his mouth, puckered hole shown to Bressie like a prize between his pale legs. Bressie's hand was hovering over his dick, waiting and waiting until Niall finally moved his fingers to his entrance and pushed inside, a long sigh of Bressie's name coming through the speakers of his laptop as his digits slowly sunk into him. 

As that happened, Bressie relieved the pain the slightest bit by starting to pump himself to the rhythm of Niall's thrusts. He watched almost looking crazy-eyed as he stared intensely at Niall's fingers reappearing and disappearing inside him. Bressie's stomach muscles started to clench whenever he got to the tip, rubbing at the slit and then going back down again, knowing he'd cum too soon if he kept doing that. 

They kept a steady pace, and Bressie felt his orgasm building up fast inside him, sizzling in his gut and making low groans come deep from his throat, his jaw loose and hanging onto his chest. 

"Come on, wank yourself off for me, gonna cum now." Bressie sped-up his movements when Niall did as he was told, now fingering himself faster when he noticed Bressie's quickened pace. 

They didn't last long after that, just a couple more seconds before Bressie's toes were curling into the rug on the floor, back arching off the back of the couch as strips of cum shot from his dick and landed on his thighs and couch cushions. 

He cupped his balls as he came down from his orgasm, slowly blinking through the fuzzy clouds around his eyes before he saw Niall looking to be in the same position, slumped against the couch. Niall's knees were pressed to his chest, thighs shaking from the aftershocks still. It was something that made Bressie's dick twitch, but it wasn't enough to get him off again. 

"How was that?" he asked once Niall's face was shown again and he had moved his knees away from his chest. Bressie chuckled at seeing the blissed-out expression on his husbands face, taking that as a  _ 'yes.' _

"Didn't think I'd like this that much, but if you're gonna be away for another couple months m'gonna need to have you Skype me more often," Niall suggested with a wink, getting up and temporarily disappearing from the screen, but coming back a minute later with a cloth in his hands to wash everything off. 

Bressie was still a mess, but after his orgasm all his exhaustion came rushing back inside him. It hit him hard, and his eyes were already drooping closed as he still watched silently as Niall cleaned himself off and a little bit of the couch. 

"I think it's time for someone's nap." 

Bressie didn't even realize he had closed his eyes completely this time, and he snapped them opened to glare at Niall who was not staring at the camera, fully clothed again. He must've passed out for a couple seconds, and a blush lightly tinted his cheeks. He really didn't want Niall to think he was boring or that he only wanted to Skype to get off, but he barely could say a word without it slurring out and making no sense. 

"Go to bed Brez, I'll be waiting for your call tomorrow night, okay?" Bressie managed to get himself seated a little straighter, rubbing at his eyes and giving Niall a thankful smile. It was a weak attempt, but Niall still looked entertained. 

"Love you, Chief," he managed to murmur, and even though it was quiet, it was still caught by the speakers because Niall's eyes softened and his shoulders slumped. 

"Love you too, Head, sleep well." Niall clicked something on his own laptop, and then Bressie was just staring at a blank screen. He blinked slowly, only able to shift onto his side and grab at a pillow to shove under his head before he was out like a light. 

  


  


It gets a little… strange for a week or so after. Bressie had lived the life of a successful journalist for a good couple months now, but hasn't really seen any cons to being in London. The only thing that upset him was the fact that Niall wasn't there beside him to experience the wonders of good food, nice people, and a unique atmosphere. He'd be sitting in some cafe with his friends Pat and Eoghan sipping some caramel latte when all of a sudden his mind would float off to blue eyes and red cheeks, how he missed waking up and coming home to that every morning and evening. 

Eoghan would always make fun of him though, press at his nerves whenever he'd see Bressie's mind wonder and how he'd veer off from a group of people to be in his own company. "The country boy isn't having a good time again boys!" he'd yell out, moving forward to slap a hand onto Bressie’s shoulder.

He was getting better though. He sat on a barstool with a beer cupped in his hands as he listened to Pat and Eoghan bicker about what football team was going to win next weekend. 

The night was lively -- every night really was in London -- so people were crowded in the small pub they found themselves in a couple blocks down from where they worked. 

Eoghan insisted they celebrated after a long week of deadlines, and Bressie had almost went with some of the other lads when they said they were just going to head home, but Eoghan was tugging at Bressie's coat collar and Pat was yelling his name ‘til he started to get a headache, so he caved in after the sixth _ 'Niall'  _ \-- and one particular tug on his coat that made him stumble and almost lose his balance. 

So, there he was, starting to fidget in his seat with the need to get home. But being social was important, he kept on reminding himself, so he smiled when both of them stopped their intense chat to look towards him. 

"You don't like the city at all, don't ya Bressie?" Eoghan chuckled, observing Bressie with one brow raised. 

They had only been friends for a couple months, but this bloke could already read him like a book. Was he that obvious? Bressie had tried to act like every other English citizen, but apparently he stuck out like a sore thumb. 

He shrugged at the question, "Nothing wrong with London, just not used to everything being so hectic all the time. I'm adjusting though." 

Eoghan gave him an amused look at his answer, and snorted after a few seconds of silence. "I can agree that you are trying mate. Pat did you  _ see _ the shit he did the last time we went to a bar? Ya know, Conrad's right beside The Telegraph headquarters?" Eoghan couldn't hold in his laughter, and Bressie's cheeks immediately turned a bright red, hand tightening on his beer as he stared into the glass to watch the liquid ripple inside of it. 

"I didn't go that night remember? Me wife wanted me home for dinner, I got kids unlike you lot." Pat beamed at the way Eoghan was losing all his cool in his seat, holding at his stomach, almost tipping his glass and sloshing beer onto the table. Bressie shuffled his chair a little further from his friend, not really wanting to get the dress pants he paid a good eighty pounds for soaked with alcohol.

"This man right here had five shots, one after the other, did a line of 'em." Bressie was more than drunk that night, plastered would be a better word to describe. He had thought Eoghan was joking when he told Bressie the story, but when he saw the video of him tipping five shot-glasses in a row, lasting only thirty seconds, he had felt dizzy with embarrassment. 

The bloke beside Bressie's cubicle named Oliver had almost fainted when he got shown the video. Eoghan seemed to want to show it to everyone around the group of cubicles Bressie was close to, eyes growing big and mouth hanging opened. 

"I'm gonna refill my glass." Bressie decided to make that his excuse to leave the conversation as soon as he drank the last of his beer. 

Eoghan and Pat didn't seem to mind. They were both still crying with laugher, eyes squeezed shut and babbling about how much of a  _ 'saint' _ Bressie was. He didn't quite think so, downing a couple shots made him feel more like a slob than a god. 

He leaned heavily against the bar counter once he came to it, blowing out his cheeks with his breath before meeting eyes with one of the bartenders. She smiled at him and asked him if he wanted a refill without him saying a thing, her green eyes flickering down from his face to the empty glass hugged to his chest. Bressie smiled in acknowledgment, nodding and letting her take it from him. 

He hadn't been to a lot of pubs with Niall in their town. He remembered Clonakilty's only pub, owned by a family right by the pier, a calm place that had tacky beach and traditional Irish decorations hung on the walls and ceiling. It was calm though, a place where he and Niall would go once in awhile to watch a Rugby, or Football game. 

But this was different, this pub he was at. It was more lively, a hurricane of people in it, movement surrounding him. Time never stopped here, and he could feel bodies shuffling past him, brushing against his back because of how crowded it was getting. Niall would hate it here, wouldn't like how there was no personal space. 

Bressie flinched pathetically when he felt a particularly long brush against his back, a hand moving from his spine to his shoulder, more of a caress. He whipped his head towards whoever it was, expecting it to be Pat or Eoghan getting impatient with his absence and checking in. But no, it was a pretty young girl with curly, fake platinum blonde hair. Her large blue eyes looked like they were sucking out his soul when he met them, a smile appearing across her face once she noticed she had his attention. 

"Pretty crazy in here, isn't it?" she yelled, over the collective voices bouncing across the walls of the building. She leaned a little too close for Bressie's liking, her lips brushing against his earlobe. He didn't move away though, more just kept his eyes off her and focused on the bartender finishing up his drink. There was no sense in being rude, she might just want a friendly chat. 

"It is, don't know how much more people they can fit in here," he chuckled, more of a forceful laugh. He was too tired to keep-up a decent conversation, so all he felt like he could do was laugh along to dumb things that came spewing out of his mouth. It might have kept her entertained until they went their own way. 

"Well I've noticed you've been here a while, look a little lonely over there with your mates. If it's already too crowded in here, we can head off somewhere." It was an invitation for something dirty, something Bressie immediately didn't want to do. His mind flashed to Niall and the shine of his wedding ring on his finger, and he didn't even think before he was shaking his head and giving her a sympathetic smile. 

"M'married, sorry, love." He wiggled his hand at her, to show her the glimmer of his ring. It was just in time for his beer to get placed on the counter by his other hand and he grabbed it quickly. He didn't know what he would've done if he had to wait any longer, the awkward tension between them would make him burst at the seams. 

He really did expect her to leave, but she was laughing and wasn't even blinking at his confession. It made him squint his eyes down towards her, not impressed. 

"Many men are married, and many of those men can still have a good night out." She had some teasing tone to her voice, flicking her blonde hair back over her skinny shoulder to show off her collarbones and pale skin, puffing her chest out to show off her round breasts tucked into the too-tight shirt she had on. 

"I'm not one of those men." Bressie didn't even want to play nice guy anymore, had given her his final answer with a fake smile and irritated eyes before he spun on his heels and walking off. His need for another beer had sizzled out now, ruined by the audacity of a woman's words. When he sat himself back down at their table, he just stared at the full glass uninterested. 

"Mate, you had a perfectly good lass over there!" Eoghan was in his face immediately, of course. Bressie was straining every muscle in his body to keep from grabbing his beer, and dumping it onto his friend's head. He wasn't in the mood for jokes right now. 

Immediately, there was a little voice in the back of his head nagging him and telling him off for not bringing up the fact that he was a married man. 

But it was hard, one thing about city life was that he didn't know what people thought of gay men. There was so many different opinions in one small place, there was no way he could tell who was okay with someone being gay and who was disgusted.

In the small town of Clonakilty, he and Niall were lucky, filled with love and adoration by their fellow town citizens.  

London wasn't even close to what Clonakilty was, so Bressie's emotions and insecurities were perfectly understandable. But maybe, just maybe, he might tell these two just to get them off his back tonight. 

"Not interested, have uh, have someone at home waiting for me." Bressie gave them both a stiff smile at his answer, only looking at them for a couple seconds before he was shifting his gaze back down to the top of the table, eyes fixed on a stain from the bottom of a beer bottle darkening the wood. 

"Oh, shit well nevermind then." Eoghan was breathless and huffed loudly, the sound of his chair creaking annoyingly under his weight as he shifted was quickly faded out by the loud sounds of laughter from Uni students beside them. 

"Didn't tell us that, lad! What is she like? Probably didn't like you heading off to London right?" Pat asked, looking a little less energetic than he was before Bressie left to get his beer refilled. He looked a little more soft in the eyes when he met Bressie's. 

"Not a she..." He trailed off with his confession, getting flashbacks to when he was telling Niall about his new job. This was a similar situation, the way his heart was racing in his chest and how his brows furrowed into a knot on his forehead. 

He was settling his feet on the ground instead of perched on the stool, ready to hoist himself up and run out if they gave him a disgusted look -- any hint of a curl of their top lips, or wrinkle of their noses. 

But none of that came, it surprised Bressie when he heard Eoghan chuckle and take another swig of his beer, slapping it down onto the table. It was loud and cut through the air unsettlingly, making Bressie's muscles clench. He didn't know how to take that reaction, battling between running or staying to hear what his friends were going to say. 

"Okay… Then what does  _ he _ think about you heading off to London? Sure the lad misses you." 

Bressie almost wanted to give Eoghan a smooch on the temple, one hard and loud one just to thank him unconditionally for not giving a shit. Bressie probably looked stupid now with his arse half off the chair and one leg out in stride to bolt out of his problems, so he gladly sat himself back down and got comfortable. 

"He does, but I call him every night. FaceTime and Skype helps us out a lot. I'm planning to go back soon though, been saving up." 

They both nodded at his words, still not showing any confusion or disgrace towards him. Bressie still was waiting for something to happen, but apparently they weren't even going to budge at his words, not unsettled at all. 

Bressie came to London with very low expectations towards city folks, and now he was thinking about telling Niall all about these lads. Maybe that would persuade his lover to come there.

  


  


Sure, Bressie had told Eoghan and Pat about his love life and the ring on his finger. But, of course, he didn't tell  _ all _ of his colleagues. It was never brought up in conversation, never really needed to be talked about, and he didn't walk up to someone he simply worked with and said  _ 'hey mate, I'm gay and happily married.'  _

One said colleague, Eddie, was walking up to Bressie’s desk with a skip in his step, leaning onto the cubicle and smiling like he'd just seen heaven itself. Bressie had a stressful past couple weeks trying to book a flight but getting no luck, so he didn’t really put the equal amount of effort into looking as happy as his friend was at the moment. 

"Niall! Look at ya, hard at work! You look like you haven't slept a wink since you first got here!" Eddie was a loud man, and his voice boomed throughout the building. Bressie could hear the typing from the person beside him falter at Eddie’s voice, probably annoyed. 

"I've gotten a fair share of sleep don't worry Ed. Just, haven't gotten enough that's for sure." Bressie was still going to be nice, setting aside his work to give the man his full attention. He was already ahead with writing his article, and was already researching for another story, so he could spare some time. 

"Well then, I've got the perfect cure to enlighten your spirits, how about me and some lads take you around London? A little tour, huh?"

It was a nice gesture, something Bressie could only blink in surprise at for a few seconds. "Uhm, wow mate that's nice of ya… y'know." He moved a hand up to scratch at his scalp, a nervous fidget he always did that had become a filthy habit. Niall would always grab at his wrist and lower it, knead at his fingers and massage at his palm if something got too stressful so Bressie wouldn't scratch his scalp raw. 

"Oh come on, Eoghan and Pat have had their turns with you a good handful of times, now you need to come out and party with me and my mates. You know them: Will, George, Xander, and Jonathan?" 

Of course Bressie knew them, but he’s only had small talk with them in the break room. He's seen Will a couple times in the Starbucks line in the mornings -- something that Bressie has also taken a liking to, his fresh Starbucks coffee that he'd already be done with before getting to his desk. Again, he can hear the echo of Niall's laugh in the back of his mind, teasing him about how much of a crazy city folk he was now. 

"I mean if you boys are already making plans and such, sure I'll tag along." Bressie knew he couldn't just lie, and what would be so bad about making new friends? Sure, these guys were a little older than him, probably in their forties, but they looked lively for their age. 

Eddie, at his answer, beamed like the sun and did a happy drum of his fingers along the side of Bressie's cubicle. "Wonderful, tonight then?" He didn't even give Bressie time to answer, just gave him a thumbs up before spinning fast on his heels and waltzing away. 

It was strange, people in Clonakilty were never this energetic and bold. People didn't really need to be, it was a town where everyone knew each other and there was no need to make an effort to get people to like you. But in London it was like everyone had to fight to be remembered and popular. It was kind of a turn-off for Bressie, a con added onto the little t-chart he made in his mind, balancing out the good and bad things to living in a big city like London. 

But what reason would there be to turn all this down now? He was getting a free tour of London, and able to make new mates to keep him from being some outcast. That was the last thing he wanted to be in a place like this. 

  


  


"London taxi's are mental mate, but it's a luxury compared to when I took a business trip to New York, god, dirty old things they have." Will was talking over the loud echoed laughter of the other boys who were on the edge of drunk. Bressie had a couple drinks himself at the first bar they went to, so he felt fuzzy around the edges and had to focus ten times harder on the sidewalk in front of him. He had barely heard what Will had said to him really, but he heard the business trips part so he held onto the topic. 

"You travel being a journalist?" He asked, trying to tame the slur in his voice. 

"Of course I travel! Have been all over the world. I'm apart of the sports department in The Telegraph so I travel to games and such." Will looked surprised at Bressie's question, a playful scoff passing his lips. "I've heard your opinion has gotten some good viewers in our business, you'll be traveling around soon enough, don't you worry."

It was a nice compliment, something he had never heard before. Sure, Bressie was the one to share his opinion on the paper and on their website, do some small news articles at times. But he never heard any good feedback from his work yet, so he couldn't help the pride that blossomed in his chest, making him stand a little taller. 

"I don't think my job here needs me to travel. I don't mind staying here though, I've got enough things in my hands already." Bressie was chuckling, shrugging off the compliment because he didn't really know how to handle it. But Will was already laughing loudly, head thrown back and eyes wrinkled into slits as they stared up at the night sky. 

"Mate please don't make me laugh, of course you're traveling in this job. No one reading our papers, or our website, is gonna believe the shit coming out of your mouth unless you've had a personal experience with it, or have actually been there to have a valid opinion on it." 

It was true what Will was saying, now that Bressie thought about it. But it made his stomach flip and twist in worry. He didn't expect that, thought he'd be sat at a desk all day and every day like his old job. Apparently not, and now he had another thing to tell Niall that he was sure the younger brunet wouldn't like. 

Nothing has happened yet though, he was still sat at his desk all throughout the days -- having to do weird stretches in his seat so his legs didn't cramp up. He wasn't leaving anywhere, so there wasn't really a hurry to tell his husband about all this. Will had been a worker at The Telegraph for a while, Bressie could just see the maturity and professionalism on the man's face. He himself had just started working here, there was no way he'd be sent off with a plane ticket until he hit a year on the job, at least. 

"Lads, look over there! No bloody way are we not going in there!" It sounded like Xander who said that, but Bressie still couldn't quite connect names with voices. He looked over anyways, and tripped over a crack in the sidewalk as soon as his eyes met the sign a few stores down from him. 

It was a neon sign of a woman, the cliche looking one with a girl in a bikini and high heels. It read  _ 'Love Club'  _ under her posing body, and Bressie felt himself get a cold sweat rolling through him. This was exactly what he didn't want, and he consciously took a step back. 

All of the men around him were ecstatic though, no hesitation in their walks as they rushed off towards the front entrance. It was so strange how all their wives and children were shoved out of their minds as they made long and fast strides towards the doors, it was something that made Bressie feel sick to his stomach. 

Why cheat on a person that loved you unconditionally? It was wrong, so wrong that it should be illegal, and Bressie still wasn't making a move inside, just stared at their backs until Will turned around, giving him a raised brow. 

"Don't tell me you're backing out now mate! If you want to really live like a city boy, you've gotta go into places like this!" Will was acting as if they were entering an ultra universe that looked and felt just like heaven, but Bressie knew that wasn't it at all, for him at least. 

"I think I'll just take a cab home, getting a little tipsy already." Bressie let out a fake laugh, pointing his thumb over his shoulder and slowly \making his way towards the curb. But Will was still standing there staring at him, looking amused and not at all concerned or confused. Bressie wanted to just tell him to piss off now, but he swallowed the words down before he'd start unnecessary drama. 

"It's a strip club mate, if you fancy a lass at home or something she doesn't have to know." Will chuckled as if it was something to laugh about, _ cheating, _ and Bressie just glared at him. He seemed to notice the ugly humour though, because Will cleared his throat and his smile slid off his face. "Okay, let me reword that. You don't need to go in there to get some girl to grind on you, have one more drink with us, one." Will held up a finger, raising his brows at Bressie and attempting to show some innocence. But what was innocent about going into a place filled with half naked women? 

Bressie still really shouldn't go inside, but for some reason he was taking steps forward and actually following Will, getting a hard slap on his shoulders and a _ 'good lad'  _ from the man before they entered the dimly lit, building flashing with neon lights and vibrating with RnB music. 

It wasn't his scene at all, Bressie knew that already by simply walking towards the table the other guys chose. He already felt wrong and out of place, body recoiling anytime someone or something brushed against him. He made sure to sink roughly into the little U-shaped booth, trying to disappear and disintegrate into the plush cushions. 

It worked for a little bit he had to admit -- the men talked around him, fishing out a couple pounds from their pockets and walking one after the other over to the stage where three girls were dancing along poles. Bressie stayed where he was though, letting himself take a couple sips of the mixed drink that was handed to him by Jonathan (he thinks that's the lads name, at least).

But all good things come to an end, and his plan failed immediately once a young lady came out of nowhere from behind him, probably from a back room. She had on a skimpy outfit similar to the girls on stage; a thick black lace thong and matching bra that made her breasts look plump, almost like they were going to bust out of it. Bressie could only force himself to look away and act as if she wasn't there. 

The girl was looking right at him though, her eyes were wide and fluttering like butterflies as she moved them down Bressie's body/ He felt his skin crawl at her stare. He didn't really know what to do, and grew into a panic when she took a long stride towards him, her hips now right in his face -- he could basically count the stitches of her panties. 

"Why aren't you up with all your mates? They all look like they're having a good time." She spoke, her voice attempting to sound smooth and sexy, but it was too high-pitched for him, and he hid his cringe by taking another sip of his drink. 

"Not really my thing, this. Just here for a drink." Bressie tipped his glass towards her in a gesture to show he wasn't ying through his teeth, but even when he did that, she giggled and rolled her eyes. 

"No man that comes to this place is  _ 'just here for a drink'  _ you've been caught, babe." She was very entertained by his words, and stared down at him with flaming eyes and curled up lipstick-coated lips. Bressie tried to ignore the nickname that rolled off her tongue. He wouldn't be surprised if that was the name she used on all the guys that fell to their knees at her feet. 

"Listen I don't want anything from anyone, I promise you I will be just fine here with my drink." He was getting irked at her words and tried his hardest not to sound rude, but people were getting on his nerves all night, and his self-control was slowly slipping away. 

"You'll be lonely here." She was still smiling, and walked over with her hips swaying. Bressie watched them as if they'd come out and bite him, and tried to take another chug from his beer but got it snatched away from him. It dangled a couple centimetres above his head, held in the girl's grip as she slid into his lap. 

He should have pushed her off, growled out a _'no'_ , and stood up; let her fall like a dead weight to the floor, but he was sitting there still, eyes watching her bite at her lip and scrape off some of her lipstick with the front of her teeth. Her eyes wild and hungry looking down at him. Her breasts were right in his face, two plush cushions with his nose brushing against her left one, right over her heartbeat. 

"You're aching for it, and I know a lonely man when I see him," she whispers, leaning in closer to get her breasts further into his face. Bressie had to close his eyes, tried not to think about how he took in the smell of her vanilla perfume, or how his hands were brushing along her smooth skin. 

He felt her hips rub along the front of his pants, lace panties scratching against his slacks. It made his eyes flutter shut. All of a sudden he was letting her grind up against him, hands roaming along his body and lips guiding paths along the veins in his neck. Time passed like smoke, floating carelessly along the air until Bressie snapped out of own world and stumbled back into reality. 

He looked the girl right in the eyes, seeing how pretty she was, how gorgeous her skin sparkled in the neon lights. He wanted more of her, wanted to see her naked. But he shook his head, trying to extract the poison in his brain. 

Bressie didn't even realize he was getting up until he heard the thud of the girl falling to the floor in front of him, her slipping off his lap at his sudden movements. She squealed in surprise and hurt, staring up at him with an open mouth and furrowed brows. 

His mind was a blur, he could hear the familiar voices of his co-workers telling him to come back as he rushed out, asking him questions that he couldn't answer in the state that he was in. 

It felt like there was a storm in his brain, breaking apart every single sane thought he ever had. Bressie was screaming at himself, or more, his mind was morphing that voice into Niall, the sound of his husband’s voice screaming in agony,  _ 'how could you?!" _ ripping out of his throat. 

  


  


It didn't end there though, he thought it would after the next day rolled in. But his mind drifted to that girl’s face, the way she felt, the way she wanted him to feel. It was a drug, something he wanted more of. 

Bressie couldn't think of Niall, had pretended his husband was a lost cause in his brain as he made his way back towards the strip club. It was night now and he was alone with no guys around him, no one holding him back, no excuses. 

The girl was still there, this time with a red bra and panties on that looked vibrant against her pale skin. She caught his eye almost immediately, and raised one amused brow as she walked towards him. Her long legs were intoxicating, how they shone in the spotlights as strippers danced on poles and drowned in the money getting tossed on stage towards them.

"You decided to come back, what an interesting customer you are." She winked, and Bressie cringed and looked away. He didn't like being called a customer, and only wanted to see her one more time and get some kind of sexual release that he'd been deprived of for a while. 

"I have money." he sighed, patting the front of his pant pockets. 

Her eyes flickered down towards it, slowly looking back up to him through her fake lashes. She had on heavy eyeliner and dark eye shadow, making her look more mysterious and something Bressie wanted to smother between his arms as he fucked into her. 

"What would you like, my dear?" she asked, biting at her bottom lip similarly to what she did last time. It made Bressie's heart thud harder under his ribs, and he gulped loudly before answering. 

"One night, with you." He stepped closer, making the conversation more secret. He didn't want other people hearing them, even though he was already being seen as clear as day inside a strip club. He already felt dirty being in a place like this, he didn't want to feel more gross by saying those words too loud. 

The woman looked surprised, and Bressie knew that strippers weren't supposed to give sex. It was just to show off their bodies and tease, but he decided to take a shot in the dark. She was all he wanted, all he needed for just one night. 

One night, and then he could go back to being the man he used to be. 

Tomorrow, he would be a married man again. 

She gave a small laugh as she stepped back from him, but she stopped as she was about to speak, really looking into his eyes to see how serious Bressie was being. It was then that her shoulders sagged, and her eyes darkened and matched her makeup with something deeper than just a tease. It became lust. 

"For you… I can make exceptions." She stepped into Bressie's personal space, chest to chest and bodies hot against one another. 

"Then let's go," he mumbled, before he caught his lips on hers. 

  


  


The next morning was rough when Bressie awoke, the girl was gone already when he moved onto his side, seeing no one beside him. He wasn't upset though, picking at the creases in the sheets in front of him as the morning light shone through the blinds, creating a faded yellow light along the mattress. 

He eventually got up, running his hands through his messy hair and cringing at the feeling of scratches down his back. The sweat he had produced last night was now an uncomfortable layer along his skin; a soar expression coming across his face when he ran his fingers along his arms. 

There wasn't a need to get up yet, but his taste buds danced in his mouth, wanting coffee. So he shuffled to the side of the bed and got himself up, stopping when he saw his phone had notifications. There was a note from the girl taped to the top of his bedside table by the lamp. 

He grabbed the note first and sighed, a deep frown coming across his face as he read the words out. 

_ "You can call me anytime you need me," _ was written messily on it, and under it was the girl’s phone number and her name that he didn't want to ever see again. The disgust was kicking in fast, and he let the paper float to the floor as he let go of it. 

He grabbed for his phone next, and that's when he saw Niall's contact flash as the first thing on his screen. Niall had been calling last night to have their nightly talk, three missed calls before he gave up. 

That's when everything really got kicked into place, made Bressie's head screw on right and mind now realize what the fuck he actually just did. 

He had a husband, someone who loved him and trusted him… waiting for him at home and getting a call rejected from him because Bressie was out fucking someone else. 

  


  


He tried to tell himself that the first night was because of the many drinks he had. But then what excuse did he have for the second? It was his choice to walk into that strip club again, his choice to kiss her neck, bring her home, sleep with her in his own bed. He even missed Niall's call again when he got back home from work, busy staring off into the city lights from his flat, wondering what kind of man he was now. 

How could he become this? Was this what the city had done to him? He was a man from a small town where he knew everyone by their names, where his backyard was a field where he could adventure for ages. But then all of a sudden when that all changed, it was like his self-control had smashed into pieces. 

This was a sign, the last little crack in the dam he had that Bressie couldn't ignore any longer. He needed to go back to Ireland, remember where he belonged, remember who loved him and not just lusted for him. 

Clonakilty was calling him, and he let out a long sigh before grabbing at his laptop, first sending an email to his boss asking for a week long leave, and then clicking on the earliest flight home. 

  


  


His boss had said yes, and it was almost like the man could see how stressed and disoriented Bressie had become living in the city. Bressie was called into his boss’ office the next day, and sat down across from him in a plush office chair -- way nicer than the one at his own office -- and stared into his boss’ eyes. He looked sympathetic. 

"I read your email last night," he stopped for a dramatic pause, "and I am perfectly fine with you heading home for a week. You have been a wonderful worker for this company Niall, and you deserve a little time off." 

His boss was kind, something Bressie didn't expect, but Bressie didn't want to question his behaviour, immediately nodding and almost jumping out of his seat when they were done their brief conversation. 

He landed in Dublin, looking out his plane window as the clouds erupted into a thick fog, and suddenly there was the colourful ground of Ireland beneath him. He almost wanted to cry, seeing his home looking so healthy and green. It definitely didn't look like a concrete city like London. It was an observation that already was lifting his spirits. 

And throughout all this, Niall didn't know about his return at all. Bressie had decided to keep it a surprise, and felt the excitement boil in his stomach every time he envisioned his husband’s surprised and delighted expression when Bressie walked through their front door with his luggage in hand. 

Bressie did tell Ron though, since that was his only real way home, so as soon as he got off the plane he was almost knocked off his feet by his friend barrelling into him like a maniac. But Bressie was a solid lad, and only stumbled back a few centimetres before catching himself, chuckling as soon as he realized who it was after the shock. 

"Niall Breslin, the legendary journalist is back home!" Ron yelled out, a little too loud for Bressie's liking, but he bit his tongue and restrained himself from telling his mate off, instead smiling fondly at the enthusiasm. 

"M'not legendary, far from it lad." He decided to answer with that, and Ron was rolling his eyes and groaning, moving a hand to slap on Bressie's shoulder. Bressie let him guide him towards the exit of the airport, it being a bit of a challenge to maneuver past the anxious tourists and businessmen and women shoving their way through without a care. It wasn't as bad as London though, another comparison that Bressie could make. 

"Are you kidding me? You've only been at The Telegraph for a couple months and already you have five or six articles up, and the reviews mate… The  _ reviews! _ You must be bloody rich now!" Ron was babbling like he usually did, hands moving around in wild gestures as Bressie aimlessly followed him towards his car. 

"That's a normal amount though Ronny, I spend most my days typing or writing up articles for this company. For the reviews part, well I'm glad people like 'em." Bressie felt a little flustered, but hid it well by scratching at his stubble and looking off, pretending a young family scrambling to get into their car a couple feet away from him was the most interesting thing around him. He also decided to completely ignore the  _ 'you must be bloody rich now'  _ comment, ‘cause he didn't quite think so yet. 

"People like them alright, god, the whole town has read them! If you aren't a legend in London yet, I can confirm you sure are in your home town." 

That warmed Bressie's heart, something that made him smile. He was happy everyone was enjoying his work, and really, all that mattered was that people were entertained with his writing, money was second place under that. 

"Niall has read them?" Bressie couldn't help but ask, and he could see the amused smirk that appeared across Ron's face as he turned towards the car that Bressie recognized as his. He didn't answer Bressie’s question until the car was started and they were pulling out of the parking lot. 

"Your boy has read them, was upset for a couple days after you left but a couple of the townspeople had sent him your work in the mail and to his doorstep. He couldn't help himself after a week, and now he's completely hooked." 

Bressie couldn't help the relieved chuckle that passed his lips, happy that his husband wasn't angry at him anymore, or at least, not as angry as he had been. 

"He misses you though, a lot. Everyone can tell, it looks like he's got some rain cloud above his head everywhere he walks." 

Bressie could imagine that in his head very clearly, Niall looking all depressed going grocery shopping or walking to his car after closing up the store. Hopefully that would all change. 

"He doesn't know about me coming home for a bit, right?" Bressie asked even though he knew he told Ron to specifically not tell Niall -- or anyone for that matter -- of his return home for the week, but he needed to be reassured. He didn't want this surprise ruined. 

"Nope, Claudia from the bar had stopped by your place a day or so ago, had said he came for a drink and he was completely clueless. She didn't say a word." 

Everything was falling in place perfectly, and Bressie smirked out the window of Ron's car, staring at a smudge of dirt along the side of the rearview mirror as he tried to tame his mind from wandering off into thinking too much about his husband. His excitement was unexplainable and he felt like he was coming back from war, going home to his long-awaited husband who has been fretting over him for months. 

It wasn't as dramatic as that of course, but his heart was beating at a rate that he's never felt before, and his smile muscles were doing a never-ending workout, a constant curl that lifted his cheeks and made him feel young again. 

  


  


As Ron pulled up to his home, Bressie watched with his eyes wide like a child at the long familiar dirt road leading to their dream place. It was still the same as when he left, dirty shingles along the side of the house that needed to be hosed down, the uneven porch steps that tipped on an angle the slightest bit. Of course, there was Niall's car as well, the old thing sat as rusty and in need of a paint job as ever in its usually place. 

Niall was home, and Bressie felt the sizzle in his stomach return, nervousness and exhilaration like an engine working at a fast pace to keep him in a state of not losing his mind. 

"Niall!" Bressie’s head shit towards Ron. He was still sat in the driver's seat, staring at Bressie with one hand on the steering wheel, looking amused. "I've called your name about ten times, looks like you just need to get your arse out of my car and see your boy!" 

That comment made Bressie chuckle and blush, hands blindly grabbing for the door handle and opening it to get out of the car. He quickly grabbed for his luggage, and settled it at his feet to wave Ron off and say his thanks. 

"I'll call you at the end of the week to set up a plan on taking you back to the airport, lad!" Ron yelled out, as he rolled the car window back up, and then he was speeding off back down the road, dirt picking up under his wheels and flying like a dust cloud around Bressie. 

He walked up towards the house, luggage being dragged behind him, catching along rocks and pebbles along the ground making it harder to steer. He managed to get to the porch steps with his bag only flipping onto its side once, and slowly -- as if he was worried he'd break his own home -- he stepped onto the first stair, and made his way to the front door. 

There was the sound of the tv playing some sport -- the loud, annoying voice of a very enthusiastic commentator echoed throughout the house and out the screen door. Bressie smiled, he already felt at home and he hadn't even stepped foot inside the place yet. 

Niall still hadn't heard him. Bressie was trying his hardest to be light on his feet, passing every crack in the floor with the tips of his toes pressed against it, heels hovering slightly off it. He successfully made it all the way into the living room where his husband was all curled up in a blanket, the tips of his bare feet sticking out at the ends because it was too short for him. 

Bressie remembers when his grandmother knitted that. She was into every cliche thing a grandmother liked, and she gave it to him and Niall for a housewarming gift when they had bought the home they lived in now. She specifically said _ , ‘from the looks of how old this house is, you boys will probably need this because of the endless drafts!’ _

She was very stern with her words, didn't really like their choice in an old house like this, but it gave her an excuse to practise her knitting skills, so really it wasn't that bad for her in the end. 

Even with the blanket looking so small, Niall managed to look like it was swallowing him up with the way his chin was tucked under it, arms wrapped tightly around the wool. He still was hooked on what looked like a hockey game, blinking with tired eyes at the screen. 

"When the hell did you start liking hockey, Chief?"  Bressie blurted the first thing that came to mind.

He never saw his husband jump as much as  Niall did right then. The smaller brunet was flinging himself forward on the couch, the blanket being thrown to the ground and big blue eyes meeting Bressie's. 

It was like someone had shoved their hand into his chest and grabbed at his pumping heart, the way Niall's eyes were locked onto him. They were still as beautiful as ever, something that left Bressie breathless and out of words. 

"Head?" Niall asked as if he wasn't sure who was in front of him, and Bressie chuckled, arms opening up in invitation. 

He was surprised when Niall didn't even get up off the couch, he just scrambled onto his knees and leaned over the back of it, throwing his arms forward and tangling then around Bressie's neck to pull him in. Bressie hit the back of the couch hard with his thighs, almost tumbling forward with Niall's full weight pressed into him, but he balanced himself out and managed to move his arms around Niall too, gripping his husband's small waist like it was the last thing he was ever going to hold. 

"You're fucking here!" Niall screeched out. It was right against Bressie's ear, making it ring with how loud it was, but he smiled nonetheless, loving the sound of his love's voice. "Why didn't you tell me you were comin' you arse!" 

"It was a surprise, and it worked!" Bressie fired back at Niall's words, still holding onto his husband’s waist, curling his fingers into the loose shirt he had on. 

Oh, a little too loose, Bressie noticed. He looked down, a little uncomfortable with the way they were holding each other so tight, but he could see enough to recognize one of his sweaters. 

"It worked alright,” Niall mumbled, and that was the last thing Bressie heard come from his mouth before Niall was moving away to tug him in for a bruising kiss. Their lips felt like they became one, something rough and forceful that showed love all around it. 

The kiss was more of a snog now, and soon Niall's hands were sneaking under Bressie's shirt and feeling along his sensitive, hot skin. It made Bressie's stomach muscles clench under his fingertips, breath catching in Bressie's throat as Niall shoved his tongue past his lips. 

"Easy little one," Bressie huffed out, but he wasn't being slow either, hands moving down hungrily ‘til they were gripping the globes of Niall's arse like a lifeline. 

The back of the couch was still smushed between them, and it was starting to get annoying that they couldn't be as pressed together as they'd like. Bressie didn't want to know whose limbs were whose, that's how close he wanted to be.  

"Come on,” Bressie growled, hands moving from Niall's arse to the dips in his waist, keeping a steady hold onto his husband as he lifted Niall up so he was sitting on the back of the couch with his legs wrapped tightly around Bressie's hips. 

As soon as they were pressed together it was an immediate magnetic current making a path around them, tugging them both in so there was no space between their bodies. Bressie was a bit taller of course, so Niall's nose was buried between his pecks and inhaling his scent deeply. Niall was even trying to burrow in further, pale hands moving around  Bressie's chest and mapping a blueprint to a maze along his body that only Niall would be able to figure out in the end.

"Bedroom, yeah?" Bressie spoke, not really asking as he lifted Niall up off the couch and started walking forward towards the front hallway. He could feel Niall's legs tighten around him, securing themselves so he wouldn't slip out of Bressie's grip. It was working well until Niall's lips snuck back onto Bressie's. It was another shock of intimacy that made him move Niall so the smaller brunet’s back was pressed against the hallway wall, both of them licking into each others mouths and moaning furiously. 

_ 'There is no way we are getting to the bedroom,'  _ Bressie thought to himself. He could feel Niall trying to shuffle his pants down with his heels, getting them just under his bum before he gave up on trying. Bressie kept one hand sturdy on Niall's waist, keeping his husband tight to his body as he moved one arm off from him so he could tug down Niall's jeans and pants so they were just under his arse as well.  Bressie quickly moved his own boxers down so his leaking dick was set free, slapping up right between Niall's cheeks. 

That feeling of Bressie's head against Niall's entrance had made both of them moan loudly, Niall's being high-pitched and Bressie's low in his throat. It took all the muscles in Bressie's body to restrain him from just pushing in, instead he wiggled his one hand down to the back of his pants, patting at the pockets till he felt the hard surface of the travel bottle of lube settled inside. He mentally thanked his past-self for remembering and quickly fished it out. 

The sound of the cap opening was muffled instantly by Niall’s constant impatient moans. But the sound of it opening had caused the smaller brunet to arch his back off further, and Bressie wouldn’t dare wait any longer as he squeezed the liquid onto his two fingers, feeling the slimy liquid run down the digits before throwing the bottle to the ground. Niall had let out a particularly surprised squeak at the feeling of Bressie’s fingers brushing inside him as he slowly slipped them in, both of them tensing and losing their breaths at the feeling of how tight Niall was. 

It was going to be hard starting off since they hadn't done this in a while, but  Bressie hoisted Niall up a little higher along the wall, keeping him safe so he didn't fall before Bressie started to work a second finger inside him, pulling slowly in and out, being as delicate as possible.

Niall was starting to get antsy though, by the way he was worming around in Bressie's grip and whimpering at every push of his long fingers against his prostate. 

"Brez please, baby, please,” Niall begged, a hand roughly coming up to grip at Bressie's shirt. His hold was so harsh Bressie felt like the fabric was going to tear, but he focused on the task in front of him, squeezing a third finger in until Niall was rutting himself down onto his digits. 

"Christ,” Niall sobbed, head banging against the wall, eyes locking onto the ceiling. 

Bressie knew that was a sign he should finish up. He carefully pulled out and moved his hand to his dick, shifting his hips forward and pressing Niall into the wall harder until he was pushing into the tunnel of heat he had missed. 

"Fuck," Bressie croaked, sighing loudly against Niall's sweaty throat. He could hear the smaller brunet sigh at every inch that sunk into him until Bressie's balls hit his arse, until they were locked together, breathing into each others mouths. 

That was only for a couple seconds though, Bressie had started to snap his hips back and forth, fast and loud and ruthless. All Bressie's strings became attached to Niall, and his heartbeat was pounding along his chest at the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins. 

At his old age, he could already feel the ending coming near and his self-control already coming loose, the boiling feeling in his stomach and the tension in his abs hitting him like a slap to the face. 

He looked down, regretting it immediately when it brought another surge of pleasure through him at the sight of his dick disappearing into his husband, hard slaps echoing down the hallway. Niall's pornographic moans and his low grunts mixed to make an intoxicating potion. 

"M'coming love, god." Bressie had to force that past his panting lips, brows curved down into a knot and forehead coming down to press against Niall's collarbone, feeling the ups and downs of his husbands chest as he breathed hard. 

"Don't fucking cum, don't you dare Breslin." Niall's dominant voice rose throughout the air and it cut through the fog in Bressie's brain, his whole body growing numb and hips stuttering to a stop. He needed to completely focus on Niall's command, holding back his orgasm as much as he possibly could. It was painful, and he let out a snarl, hands curling into Niall's hips to leave bruises. 

"You're gonna fuck me longer than that baby," Niall commanded, taking Bressie's chin into his hand and forcing him to look him in the eyes. 

Bressie knew Niall liked to have a dominant side at times even though he loved to take cock. It was surprising at first, it taking a couple times of them having sex before Niall's dominant side appeared while Bressie was fucking him into the mattress, about to cum. It was the most arousing thing Bressie had ever had, hearing Niall's voice telling him not to cum, Niall's dyed blond hair tickling his forehead as he leaned forward to plead like a child into the back of Niall's  neck. Niall wouldn't let him cum, didn't until he had Bressie on his back, completely lax as Niall rode him fast and hard ‘til they were both coming together. 

Niall's hand came down on his chest all of a sudden, like a rope dragging him back out of the daze he was in. He looked at his husband through hooded eyes and let out a whimper at the feeling of Niall slowly pulling off him, his dick still painfully hard and dripping with precum along his stomach when it got released from Niall's heat. Niall moved his legs off Bressie's waist, a sign for Bressie to let go of his hips and let him do what he wants. There was no need to worry though, Bressie knew the brunet wasn't done with him yet, by the way his eyes sparkled when he whipped himself around and jutted his bum out like an invitation. 

"Got such a nice cock," Niall praised Bressie, his voice slightly muffled with his face smushed into the wall as he attempted to get his bum out as far as possible, perky pale cheeks parting enough for Bressie to see the puckered and red hole. 

Niall then moved a hand out to grab at Bressie's dick, giving it a squeeze before leading it to his own hole and sinking backwards onto it. Bressie heard the long sigh and whimper that passed Niall's lips, pretty blue eyes hidden behind squeezed eyelids. 

Bressie didn't even do the work anymore, Niall's hips were already pushing back roughly and slapping hard against his hips, arse muscles clenching whenever Bressie's dick hit his prostate straight on. Niall moved an arm further back, back arching to keep up with his pace while he hooked his arm around Bressie's neck, tugging him forward so they could kiss at an awkward angle. It was sloppy, but somehow it made everything more intoxicating, like a drug to the sexual atmosphere they were consumed in. 

"You're gonna come when I tell you to, don't fucking cum," Niall growled into Bressie's ear once they parted. He still held a tight hold on Bressie's neck and didn't let go, slapping his arse down impossibly harder on Bressie's dick. Large tufts of air passed their mouths whenever they collided, both their muscles tightening at the feeling of their orgasms surging up towards their breaking points. 

"Please, fuck, Chief." Bressie felt everything spin around him, all his self-control completely lost somewhere in his mind, his wants consuming it. Niall could tell, and the smaller brunet gripped the hairs at the back of Bressie's neck, tipping his husband right over the edge at one painful tug at them. 

They were both shaking against each other, Niall's thighs quaking against Bressie's larger ones, breathing shortened and moans coming out with every huff past their spit-slicked lips. 

There was nothing else that mattered in those couple seconds as they slowly came down from their highs, there was no job that took Bressie far away, separating them for months. There was no antique shop where Niall was losing business day by day. And of course, there was no strain in their relationship. 

"You haven't been that controlling with me in a while," Bressie croaked, as he squeezed the meat of Niall's stomach and smoothed his hands along the baby-soft pale skin with a constellation of moles and freckles placed perfectly around Niall's body. 

"D'know what came over me, just really fucking missed you Head." Niall almost sounded like he was about to cry, and Bressie frowned, cautiously pulling out and letting his soft dick flop down between his thighs before he turned the smaller brunet around almost delicately as if he'd crumble between his fingertips. 

"I'm here now, yours for the week." He smiled warmly, trying to get the mood turned back into love and happiness. The last thing he wanted was Niall sad right now, it would open too many wounds. 

"Just for the week?" Niall hummed, sucking his bottom lip into his teeth and chewing on it nervously. He was deep in thought, blue eyes clouded over and focused on the wood flooring beneath them. Bressie tried to catch his husband's eyes, but failed.

  


 

It was three days later when Bressie actually spilled what has been filling his mind throughout the week, or maybe throughout the whole month, he doesn't know. 

They just finished another round of mind-blowing sex, sweaty and trying to catch their breaths all wrapped up into each other on their bed. The covers were like a nest around them, all jumbled up from their unforgiving movements of lust. 

"Come with me." His voice was loud in the silence, the only other thing heard throughout the house was the muffled sound of someone talking about the weather from the tv that they had forgotten to turn off in the living room downstairs. 

Niall looked towards him, eyes swollen and looking tired. His lids were already dropping and weighing his eyes closed, but he seemed a little more awake at the question. 

"I couldn't, Brez, you know that." It was an answer Bressie knew he was going to hear, but it still hit his chest hard and made his heart miss a beat. He wouldn't give up though, now fully determined and shuffling onto his side to look at Niall right in the eyes. He was still on his back, pale skin glowing from the sun beaming into the bedroom from the window, looking like an angel tangled in the sheets. "I have the shop that gets absolutely no customers to manage, and I am trying to make it better and more appealing so the townspeople and tourists will actually come in. We can't afford to abandon it now." 

It was an excuse, Bressie didn't want to sound mean, but it was an excuse and he knew it. They had money now, Bressie would put half his paycheque in their joint account because he earned that much money now. They were doing okay, floating fine above the water, but Niall still acted like they were drowning, probably refusing to spend any of the money Bressie was giving him. Bressie wouldn't be surprised if all of it was collecting dust in their bank account still unused. 

But he did have to put himself into Niall's shoes, he knew his husband wanted to contribute to this relationship, not be a large weight on their shoulders and making Bressie pay for everything. If he'd just move to London with him, Niall would find a job easily in just a few days. 

"You don't have to stay long babe, you could stay for a day if that's what you want." Bressie moved a hand out to rub it down Niall's chest, feeling the rough tuft of hair along his chest. 

"What would a small town Irishman like me do in a big 'ol city like London?" Niall chuckled, but it sounded strained and he wouldn't meet Bressie's gaze. He kept staring up at the ceiling, blue eyes entranced by the boring colour of white paint. 

"I asked myself the exact same thing before I went off, and look at me now, I've got money for us, making money like never before!" Bressie couldn't help but brag, never feeling so proud of himself ever before. Niall didn't look at all bothered by him gloating, was smiling softly at Bressie's words. 

"And m'proud of you Brez, so proud." Finally Niall shifted to look towards him, Bressie finally shocked back to life seeing those electric blue eyes shine into his soul. His hand stopped moving along Niall's chest now that they were locked into a gaze, settled lightly and content right above Niall's belly button. 

"So, you gonna take my offer, come with me for a day or so?" Bressie pushed, trying not to sound desperate but Niall could see right through him, the brunet snorting and moving so he was now on his side and facing Bressie, both so close they could brush noses. 

"I'll come." Niall mumbled after a beat of silence, something that gave a dramatic effect to the atmosphere making Bressie almost yelp in happiness at the answer he wanted to hear so badly. He leaned forward, smashing his lips onto his husband's, a rough collision that made Niall's breath hitch at the touch. 

"You won't regret it Chief, it's a beautiful place with kind people. I can show you around my office, have you meet my boss, my coworkers. Maybe even look for a job there, just to see some options --" 

Niall's hand came down on Bressie's jawline, cupping his scruff and thumb tracing along his cheekbone. It made Bressie stop mid-sentence. 

"I'm there for a visit Head, nothing else." 

That was understandable, Bressie didn't expect Niall to jump right in with both feet. He needed to test the waters first. London wasn't a place to just go to with no knowledge, understanding, or guide to help you through the city. Bressie needed to calm down, be thankful his picky husband even said yes. 

Soon though, he would get Niall to soften-up to London and get settled there. That city was a place where dreams are made and fulfilled, and maybe Niall's own aspirations would get to where he wanted to be… Soon. 

  


  


The week with Niall was short-lived but so, so sweet. The long days in his office and coming home to an empty apartment was something he had simply gotten used to over the months in London, but coming back to a constant companion around him made him remember just how lonely he hated to be. 

But it wasn't like he was going back alone. He had already booked both their flights to London. A few hours ago he had set everything up and finalized the details. He hadn't told Niall until now -- his husband laid out on one of the lawn chairs on the back porch with his feet up on a wooden grey paint-chipped table and a glass of lemonade cupped in his hands. 

"Got everything set for tomorrow, gotta get up early so Ronny can pick us up and take us to the airport in time." He moved to place his hands on Niall's shoulders, the smaller brunet was wearing a very thin button-down shirt, his chest on full display showing the beads of sweat from the humidity that washed in unexpectedly halfway through the day. 

He expected an answer right away, but instead there was silence, not even a shift in the chair. Bressie looked down from where he was staring out into the backyard and the too-long grass that needed to be cut, noticing that Niall looked troubled, lips pursed with his fingers tapping nervously along the side of his glass, the lemonade sloshing around inside. 

"Everything will be fine, you'll be okay. London isn't as scary as people say it is." Bressie leaned down, hand moving to brush through Niall's hair and untangle the knots along it. He knew that would usually relieve some of Niall's tension, and it looked like it worked a little bit, by the way his blue eyes closed. 

"I'm going to be scared of London no matter what… I've never been on a plane before Brez." Niall sighed loudly and it was dragged out for a few seconds, enough for Bressie to really have those words sink in. 

He totally forgot Niall had never been on a plane before, how stupid of him. Niall's family had always wanted to travel out of the country because they had many cousins from many different areas around the world, but they couldn't afford it no matter how many years they saved up. The money was usually taken out of the bank accounts, and used for something they needed more. 

Bressie frowned, feeling a tightening in his chest, not liking how he forgot something as important as that. 

"I'll be there with you the whole time, won't let go of your hand the whole ride if you want. I would never get us on a flight if something wasn't right." 

Niall moved a hand off his glass to grip at Bressie's, the one that wasn't still petting at his hair. His hand was cold when it touched the back of Bressie's hand from the coolness of the drink. 

"I'm glad I married you." Niall was smiling so big, eyes shining and looking so proud of Bressie as if he didn't expect Bressie to be so kind. But Bressie wouldn't do anything less, he loved the man in front of him more than anything. 

"I'm glad you said yes to marrying me, cheers," he joked. 

Niall laughed, a short one that made his chest rise and fall fast before he was back to looking calm in his chair, relaxed and taking in the rare heat. It reminded Bressie of some god bathing in the sun, looking like he was from another world of beauty and elegance. 

They didn't talk at all about the flight or going to London after that, Bressie knew there wasn't really anything else to say, and didn't want to get Niall doubting this whole trip. It was tomorrow, and hopefully Niall will fall in love with London and give up this small town of Clonakilty. 

  


  


The next day they didn't really talk about London either, even when Niall was doing some last minute packing and looking all cute with his brows furrowed in confusion over what to put in his bags. Bressie had to give him the extra bag of luggage that he had since Niall didn't have a suitcase, and the younger brunet didn't really know if he should fill it, or keep it only halfway full. 

Niall was extremely quiet while they were driving to the airport, he immediately looked like a lost puppy when they left Clonakilty, his head whipping back and staring longingly at the town's welcome sign as they passed it, watching it slowly disappear down the road. 

Bressie could only see him from the rearview mirror from the front seat, but he still managed to meet Niall's eyes through the mirror and give him an assuring smile. 

The behaviour and silent tortured expression that Niall had was dragging out forever. They got to the airport and said their goodbyes to Ron, and then they were off to the planes gate. Niall looked around frantically, eyes widening at the loud and obnoxious people passing them, shoulders hitting shoulders as they shoved their way through crowds to get to their destination. 

Bressie kept a hand on his husband’s lower back, guiding them through the mess of people and not stopping for anything until they got to the gate. By then Niall was fidgeting and shaking, breathing in long deep breaths to try and calm himself down. 

"You'll be alright, once we get on the plane everything will get calm again." He kept Niall close, sitting them down on two of the leather seats across from an elderly couple sharing a newspaper. Niall didn't answer him, was still far off into his own headspace. 

It did get a little more organized and less-hectic when they got on the plane and settled down in their seats.  The sound of the engines starting made Niall stiffen, big pretty blue eyes widened and started to water. Bressie moved his hand to the smaller brunet's where Niall was digging his own fingers into the inside of his thigh. Bressie grabbed them and massaged his palms. Niall still wasn't calm, but he did slump loosely into his chair at Bressie's touch and that was a start. 

What made it worse was Niall still didn't want to talk, and it was only when they were landing onto the tarmac of Heathrow airport that Bressie actually looked towards his husband, who was staring intensely out the window. 

"See, wasn't that bad was it?" He kept a light tone to his voice, trying to make everything a little less tight between them.

Niall just gave him a fake smile and a laugh that barely lasted a second before he was back to frowning and staring at the concrete moving fast under the wheels of the airplane, until it slowly came to a stop. 

There was a bit of regret swimming in Bressie's gut as he watched Niall walk a couple steps in front of him the whole time they were making their way towards the exit of the airport. He wanted to reach out and grab at his husbands wrist -- just a light touch to slow him down, maybe anchor them from being so messy and unsettled at the moment -- but he was still uneasy about London, knew that even though he had friends like Eoghan and Pat, not everyone was like that around here. 

So, Bressie forced himself to keep his hand on his baggage and walk all the way out the doors until he almost tripped over Niall when the smaller brunet stopped suddenly in front of him. 

Bressie moved quickly to avoid tumbling on top of Niall, making a fool of himself stumbling around him and almost tripping onto his face. 

"What love, jesus,"  Bressie chuckled, but could see Niall looking at something from afar with his brows knotted together and mouth slightly opened like he was trying to say something. His eyes shifted from whatever he was focused on, to the city surrounding them, astonishment coming across his face like a sunbeam to his skin. 

"There's a lad that has your name written on a piece of paper standing a few feet away… What the hell is happening." 

Bressie was just as confused until he followed Niall's eyes to see that it was Pat again, the short and happy man standing with his feet tapping excitedly on the tarmac, looking as jolly as ever even though he was only holding a piece of paper. 

Bressie chuckled, and Niall whipped his head away from where it was holding its sight on Pat. His facial expression looked shocked, and the way his muscles stiffened in nervousness made Bressie immediately stop his banter to move forward and wrap an arm around Niall's waist, hugging him into his side. That was okay right? People won't be too distracted by a simple hug, right?

"That's my mate and coworker Patty, great guy I promise! C'mon, he'll take us to my flat." 

Niall still looked unsure, bottom lip raw between his teeth and feet still stuck to the ground where he was, uninterested in moving forward. But Pat had noticed them by now, and jogged over with an even bigger smile across his face. 

"Breslin! Look who's come back in one piece!" Pat moved a hand to grip at Bressie's shoulder, shaking it once before letting go. His gaze flickered towards Niall, looking curious at first until realization dawned on his face. Bressie was already blushing, knowing what was coming next. 

"You're the lad Bressie has been talking about, good god this man is in love with you!" Pat was loud, a level that made Bressie get nervous and look over his shoulder to see if anyone was giving them weird looks, but people were more focused on getting to wherever they were planning to go to, no interest in the people around them. 

When he looked back, he saw Niall was still trying to find words, big blue eyes as wide as saucers and the perfect tint of red across his cheeks that spread down to his neck. He was just as embarrassed as Bressie, but more in panic mode seeing a stranger talk about him so enthusiastically. 

"Pat you're gonna scare him off and we haven't even been here for two hours yet!" Bressie tried lightening the mood with a joke, and Pat laughed, but Niall was still like a stone statue. 

"Let's get you two settled then." Pat spun around on his heels, the paper with Bressie's name now crumpled in his hand and ready to be thrown out. "I promise you will love this place...uh." 

Oh that's right, Bressie hadn't told Pat, or Eoghan, or anyone Niall's name. It obviously wasn't because he didn't want people to know, it was just he'd rather not stir up drama with homophobic people at his first few months on his job. 

"Niall, Niall Horan." 

He speaks! Niall sounded a little uneasy, but he still spoke before Bressie could answer Pat for him. Bressie smiled down at Niall, seeing that he looked a little less tense already. Pat helped Bressie out of his little protective shell when he had first come to London as well. 

"Well Niall, I hope you enjoy London as much as I do," Pat said, as he lead them through parking lot, stopping at his car, and opening the back door for them to both climb into. 

Bressie could've moved into the passenger seat, but he really wanted to place a hand on Niall's thigh, a touch that would cure him from his worries, and hopefully Niall from his as well. 

  


  


Niall had warmed up a little bit when days had passed, quicker and quicker with every restaurant Bressie brought him to, every shopping mall they screwed around in, and every night out with Eoghan and Pat, he was getting better and more relaxed in the city. 

But Bressie could see see the shimmer of a longing desire to go back home whenever he would talk to his friends, lost in a conversation, but in the middle of his chat, he'd look over and see Niall staring off into the distance. 

It was an under-coat that was slowly showing through, and Bressie felt his plan wasn't going to work, to keep Niall here in London. 

Clonakilty was too nice of a place for Niall to get up and leave. Being in a small town was something that no one wanted to stay away from, always something like a foundation for people's lives that kept them together and strong. Bressie understood that. 

Time was being lost as well, only one more day left until Niall was going to be off alone, back on a plane to Dublin to meet with his parents, who generously agreed to pick him up instead of Ron. 

Bressie was trying to make it the best week he'd ever had, and the best week Niall had ever had as well. They had already fucked in every room of the apartment -- on the sofa, in the kitchen, bedroom, spare bedroom, hallway, even against the balcony window (only when it was at night though, Niall wouldn't want it any other way). Now Bressie was kind of stumped and thinking hard about what to do. So hard, Eoghan crumpled up one of the papers on his own desk and chucked it at Bressie's head, sending it smacking into his temple. 

Bressie jumped, his office chair squeaking loudly at the sudden movement. He was angry at first, but he saw Eoghan's cheeky smile when he whipped his head around, he smirked back and raised a questioning brow. 

"What do ya need, mate?" he asked, and it took Eoghan a while to answer. His friend was still giving him that weird stare with only a smile on his face for the longest time. Bressie almost wanted to act like Eoghan wasn't even there, maybe he was just being weird. 

"Boss just told me the Gala we were planning for next month was moved to this Sunday for dinner. He wants us all there, so if you don't have any plans you should go… Maybe with a  _ little someone." _ Eoghan was wiggling his brows, looking so proud of himself as soon as he said the last line. It made Bressie blush and he had to look away, pretending to organize some files on his desk. 

"I don't know, Niall is leaving for Dublin tomorrow night." Bressie shrugged his shoulders as if it meant nothing, but now that the opportunity was brought onto the table, all he wanted to do was beg Niall to stay for at least two more days to support him at the party. He already knew the result, Niall was already looking anxious to get home, the smaller brunet couldn't possibly stay another day. 

"Oh come on, Niall is a great lad! He would keep the whole place alive!" Eoghan was whining and bragging about Niall as if he was his own friend already. Eoghan did hit it off well with him the first night they met.

It was at a bar that Bressie usually went to with his new mates, and he had somehow gotten Niall to go with him. Even though he had agreed to go Bressie could see Niall wasn't in the best mood, London still new to him, but as soon as Eoghan popped off a joke or two, Niall was having the time of his life chatting with him. 

Bressie loved every second of it, and never expected his mates to be friends with his husband, but then again he and Niall always had a similar crowd of people around them. 

"I'll ask him when I get home, but don't count on him coming. He misses home." 

Eoghan looked understanding, tapping his fingers along the cubicle wall before turning and escorting himself out to start working again. Bressie watched him go gnawing the inside of his cheek between his teeth, once again thinking of all the different scenarios in his head on how it would play out in the end. 

When he got home later on, Niall was laying on the couch with his feet propped on the cushions, body long and relaxed as he watched some random British tv show. His brows were furrowed in concentration as he stared at the screen, probably trying to understand British humour. 

"How was my love today?" Bressie asked, as he made his way around the couch to meet Niall's eyes. The brunet looked exhausted when he looked up, red-rimmed eyes, rosy cheeks, and tousled hair. 

"Good, how was my business man today?" Niall attempted to look a little more approachable, trying to sit up and curl his knees into his chest so there was room for Bressie to slip in beside him. 

Bressie gladly took the invitation, sitting down with a loud huff before tugging his husband under his arm and into his side. The warmth of their bodies together was an instant medicine, something that blew all the stress away. 

"Business man sounds snotty and weird, I like to be just called husband." 

Niall chuckled, his voice burning out at the end though, energy completely drained from his system. Bressie didn't know if it was because Niall did a lot today, or if it was because he was ready to hop on the next flight home, and get into the familiar atmosphere that was their little Irish town. 

"Don't know, you wear suits all the time, got fancy hair, clean shaven beard, always looking sharp. I think business man fits." Niall strained his neck to look up at Bressie, and when they met eyes for the second time tonight, they decided to lean in and give each other a welcoming kiss, a warm and wet touch. 

It was silence after that, just a comfortable pause that hung in the flat. Bressie's thoughts were loud and annoying, though. He was scared to ask Niall about the Gala, not wanting a  _ 'no' _ to come out of his husband's mouth, knowing that was probably what was going to happen. 

"What do you say about, uh, staying one more night?" He just said it, no long drawn-out storyline like that last time he was fearful to get an answer from Niall. But Bressie couldn't look Niall in the eyes yet, just stared at the commercial that came after the show Niall was watching. 

He could feel movement beside him though, Niall probably looking up at him with a confused expression, maybe even frustrated and mad at him. 

"One more night? Brez… London was great, and not as horrible as I thought I have to admit, but you know I want to get back to Clonakilty." Niall was trying to be as nice as possible, declining Bressie's request and letting him down easy, but it still sunk Bressie's heart. 

"I know, I know you do, Chief, but my boss changed this huge Gala that we were going to have next month to this Sunday, and all of my mates were asking if you were coming with me. They really like your company… Maybe more than mine." Bressie lied about the  _ 'all my mates were asking if you were coming'  _ part, only Eoghan cared to ask, but he was sure Pat would've wanted Niall to come just as much, based on how the lad would crack up at every word Niall said. 

"I-I don't know..." There was a glitter of something in Niall's eyes, shining with scrambled thoughts as he looked towards Bressie's coffee table -- it still had their last night’s dinner plates settled on top, apparently they were both too lazy to clean. 

Bressie moved his hand out, touching Niall's knee softly with a hopeful smile on his face, like that was going to be the beacon of light to guide Niall back towards him, to stay in London for one more night, just one. He wouldn't ask for anything else. No more begging, no more changing flights and tickets, Niall for sure go home, just after this Gala. 

"Please love? For me, one more night? Then I will get you on the earliest flight back to Dublin on Sunday. Call your parents right now, and have them pick you up after the rescheduled flight." 

Niall was thinking, still not saying anything. Bressie forced himself to keep quiet, not wanting to blab on and on because all he wanted was a certain answer from Niall, just one word or two that would either make him the happiest man alive, or a disappointed husband. 

"Christ… Fine Brez, one more night, but no more than that." Niall was wagging a finger at him, looking like a spitting image of his father Bobby with those serious blue eyes. 

Bressie couldn't help but laugh, delighted at the result and leaning forward to smash his lips onto Niall's, a long and rugged kiss that made Niall sigh loudly against him, pale hands coming up to wrap loosely around Bressie's bicep as if he was afraid he'd float away. 

  


  


They both had never been to something this fancy before, and Bressie couldn't help but laugh nervously when he saw how fancy everyone looked with their thousand pound suits and dresses, freshly polished shoes, and well-groomed hair. 

Him and Niall tried, they really did. Bressie had taken them on a short shopping trip, texting Eoghan non-stop because he didn't know what the hell to buy. In the end, Niall got a grey suit and Bressie got a black one, both of them deciding to just wear normal white t-shirts underneath. Niall had worn one of Bressie's though, because his was dirty and in the wash, so the shirt was rippled and slightly jutting out of the front of the suit, having to be tucked in deep into his trousers so it didn't look messy. 

It wasn't like they completely stood out like sore thumbs, some people were dressed similarly to them, and no one looked twice when they both walked in side by side. Of course, not holding hands, though. Niall had made that clear before they came here that he was uncomfortable showing their relationship in front of all these strangers. Bressie couldn't help but agree. 

"Niall!" 

They both whipped their heads towards the name, but Niall immediately shrunk into himself, a blush coating his cheeks as soon as he realized the person obviously wasn't calling him. The voice was slightly muffled, sounding distant and smothered by the amplified sound of many people having different conversations around them. 

But the crowd slowly parted, and soon Eddie was appearing in front of him, already holding a large glass of champagne in his hands, drink sloshing dangerously when he stumbled to a stop in front of them. He must have already been drunk, based on the way his eyes were glossed over when they met Bressie's. 

How long had this party been going on? How could this lad already be drunk? It made him cringe, but he held his emotions in and instead gave his coworker a fake smile, greeting him.

"Eddie! How are ya mate? Looking good." Bressie gave Niall a side glance, seeing that he looked more than uncomfortable in front of the man. Bressie tried not to look too obvious as he shuffled between Niall and Ed, keeping Niall behind him as if shielding his husband would help him calm him down a bit more. 

"Everyone has been looking for you! Did you get lost or something? Come on, we saved you a seat!" Eddie was basically screaming in Bressie's ear when he leaned over to say that, but Bressie nodded anyways, looking over his shoulder at Niall who gave him a knowing look back. Niall knew to follow him, so Bressie turned back to focus on Eddie as they got escorted to wherever their seats were saved. 

Of course, when they got to the large round table where many familiar faces -- for Bressie at least -- sat. There was only one seat reserved. Bressie blinked down at it dumbly, staring back up to immediately lock eyes with Eoghan who looked distressed at the realization Niall didn't have a seat. He was even getting up to walk over, but Bressie waved him off and turned towards Niall, leaning in to speak to him privately. 

"Have a seat, they only have one, but I can stand," he said in Niall's ear, but Niall gave him a confused look, immediately shaking his head. Bressie ignored it, carefully moving Niall towards the seat and watched Niall give up the attempt to fight him off, him slowly sitting down and awkwardly staring around the table at everyone. Bressie moved to lean against the back of his husband's chair, smiling at people who he locked eyes with. 

It was a lot of silence as people mingled around them, laughing with one hand always occupied with a drink in their hands. Bressie and Niall eventually got one in theirs as well, both sipping softly at red wine.

"Your name’s Niall Breslin right? But people call you Bressie?" A man's voice spoke out, breaking through the sound of mixed voices. He was tall like Bressie but had more of a lengthy body, giving  Bressie a charming smile when they finally met eyes. His drink was empty in his hands, but he didn't look anywhere close to drunk. 

"Yeah, have we met?" Bressie didn't really know how to react as he turned to face the man, keeping one hand on the back of Niall's chair for assurance to his husband that he wasn't going anywhere. Niall still gave him a nervous side-glance, but stayed relaxed in his seat still taking short sips of his alcohol. 

"No, we haven't but I've seen you around. I work on the floor above yours, come down sometimes to see my mate Louis who works around you." 

Bressie nodded, about to answer the man when he looked shocked, eyes growing wide as he started to chuckle, with a blush painting his cheeks. 

"Sorry, didn't introduce myself yet. Name’s Harry." He moved a hand out for Bressie to shake. Bressie laughed as he took Harry's hand, and shook it firmly. 

"That's alright, you look like a young lad though… Must be hard-working and lucky as hell, if you got a job like this at your age." Bressie complemented, making the man roll his eyes jokingly. He had dimples along the corners of his mouth when he smiled, showing so much youth in his smile that reminded Bressie of Niall. 

"Yeah I've definitely worked hard to get to where I am, I'm 23 with a dream job." Harry sounded breathless when he said that, like he still didn't believe where he was. Bressie could relate completely, already enjoying this lad’s company. He would be a perfect laugh with Eoghan and Pat, a good add-on to the crew that met up in that same bar for a few drinks. 

"I've always wanted to work at The Telegraph, had a job in Ireland for the longest time and never really felt fulfilled. But god, you're right this is a dream." They both laughed at Bressie's words, and Bressie was so close to introducing his new friend to Niall when Will came barging into their conversations, literally shoving his way between them and stepping on Bressie's dress shoes making him scowl. Harry had to step back with a frown across his face, dimples disappearing. 

"Bressie, mate fuck I've been looking everywhere for you! Eddie didn't even bloody tell me you were already here!" He was loud, trying to compete with the noise bouncing off the walls in the room. He gave no mercy to Bressie's ears, making him wince. 

"M'here, just needed to find the place ‘cause you know I don't live around here. A GPS does wonders, but is complete shit at times." Bressie tried pulling a joke, but only Harry gave him a smile that barely made the corners of his eyes wrinkle, and Will was too wasted to understand what he was even saying. 

"Well good, now we get some drinks and have some fun with the boys!" Will threw his arm over Bressie's shoulder, him being a little shorter so Bressie had to lean down so he didn't hurt himself. He let Will drag him closer to the table beside the one that he originally was standing by, meaning Niall was left alone in his seat, staring back at him with wide nervous eyes. 

Bressie tried to ignore it just for a couple minutes, planning to greet his mates, say hello, and have a short chat before he'd part from them to head back to his husband. But they were laughing hard when he came up, one almost falling off his chair, he was leaning that far back. 

"Breslin, we were just having a trip down memory lane that night we took you out to that strip club! Remember that?!" Jonathan yelled from across the table, and Bressie felt his heart drop into his stomach. He whipped his head back to look at Niall, feeling relief flood over him seeing that Niall wasn't looking back at him. He did look stiff in his chair, wine glass hovering still in his grip just above the table top. 

Bressie turned back, giving them all a forced chuckle and looking pained as they kept on laughing. He was searching his brain for some kind of distraction or way to change the subject, but Will was now speaking, yelling right into his ear. 

"Yeah, Brez, we have to go again, this time maybe you'll stay longer and get that pretty little lass to finish off her lap dance on ya!" 

Bressie almost wanted to yelp like he was in pain at the words; Will had basically screamed out, still trying to yell over the crowd. He couldn't even force out a laugh anymore, now just looking down at his shoes and face going as pale as a ghost as he listened to the roars of laughter around him. 

He didn't want to look, knowing that there was no way Niall didn't hear, but he couldn't just stand there staring at the ground. Bressie reluctantly moved his gaze towards his husband who was shakily setting his glass of wine down onto the table, standing up, and then slowly turning to meet his eyes. 

If looks could kill, Bressie would have no heartbeat, and he'd be nothing but a hollow shell of himself. Because there Niall was with a glare shooting right into him, tears streaming down his face, lips wobbling, chest rising and falling faster and faster, faltering to a stop like he was trying to hold back sobs. 

Niall hated crying in public, in front of anyone but Bressie or his parents. Bressie had seen Niall cry when they were both young. 

Bressie was fifteen when eight year old Niall tripped over a rock while running in the courtyard of their school. He volunteered to take Niall to the office, and eventually had to carry the younger boy because he was too scared to walk. Or, when Bressie was twenty and about to head off to Dublin, he had decided to pick Niall up instead of getting the boy’s parents to do so, and had come to the school expecting the dyed blond boy to run out with a smile upon his face, but instead was stumbling down the school steps with tears running down his cheeks, looking Bressie in the eyes once before he was full-on sobbing. He had been bullied for two months straight by a group of boys, and apparently the bullying had gotten physical. 

The memories came all the way up to the most recent time, Bressie being thirty and Niall at 23. Niall's grandmother had died in her sleep, them getting the news in the morning with a constant buzz of Niall's cellphone on the bedside table that caused Niall to yell at whoever it was when he picked up. But Bressie saw the drop in his expression, the overflow of tears in his eyes once his mother had whimpered out the news through the phone. Niall had cried for three days straight, stayed tucked in their bedroom or into Bressie's chest, sobbing uncontrollably. 

Those times Bressie reminded himself he never wanted to see that again, never wanted the love of his life to go through that, to go through something that made tears slip down his cheeks. Bressie became more and more protective over his husband, hating anyone who ever hurt Niall. 

Look at him now, though. It's kind of funny. Here he is, 33 and the one to make his husband cry, looking at Bressie as if he was one of those bullies, or like he had been the one to choose his grandmother's death date. Niall didn't even know the half of it, no one knew the true devil inside Bressie when he had gone out the second night and brought that same stripper home. 

Bessie's younger self would hate him, and he thinks his present self does too, at this very moment, as he watches his love turn around and rush right into the crowd, disappearing. 

Will was trying to meet his eyes, still laughing along as if everything was fine. Everyone around Bressie had their world still spinning around them, but his had stopped dead and cold. 

"What's wrong mate? That your friend that just ran out?" Will was still coming down from his banter, wiping at imaginary tears in his eyes with his white rows of teeth showing. 

Bressie wasn't ever a person to get physical when angry, but he felt his fist clench into the side of his dress slacks and all he wanted to do was smack the smile off Will’s face. 

"Ya can bring him along, too! Wouldn't mind having a second young lad with us, that just means more ladies!" Xavier yelled out with his drink raising in the air for a toast. It was a celebration, all these men clinking their glasses together, and downing the last of their alcohol. 

Bressie wondered where all their wives had gone, could they hear this like Niall did or had they even come? He just stood where he was, still trying to take-in what happened, what he might have lost. 

"'scuse me." Bressie didn't wait for an answer, or for anyone else to speak. He turned fast on his heels, and made a beeline towards the exit. He almost bumped into someone in his mad-dash, mumbling a sorry and looking up just enough to see Harry moving past him, looking concerned. But Bressie didn't have time for anyone else, and the new friend he met was just a blur in his vision before he grabbed for the doors, shoving them open, cool night air hitting his cheeks like cold hands gripped them. 

_ 'Niall, Niall, Niall' _ , the little voice in his mind was chanting constantly as he turned around desperately, eyes zeroing in on any human that resembled his lover. But there was barely anyone in the front, just some workers having a smoke by the curb with their laughs echoing down the street. 

"Fuck,” Bressie growled, hands fisting into his own hair and tugging at it to feel the pain. His teeth clenched tightly together, eyes like flames. He was panicking and didn't know what to do, body and mind shutting down at the stress of everything weighing down on him, rusting him over. He kept on looking, but the scenery never changed, all he could hear was those same damn laughs at the smell of toxic cigarette fumes hitting his nostrils. 

"Sir… Mister Breslin?"

Bressie made the man flinch when he turned around a little too roughly, the bottoms of his expensive dress shoes scraping against the concrete. His eyes were wild when he looked at whoever spoke to him -- he probably looked like a maniac, this person might want to see if they needed to call the ambulance to get him some help. He would be embarrassed, if his mind didn't feel like it was smushed into nothing by a hammer in-between his temples. 

It was one of the private drivers, now that  Bressie really looked at the man. He was dressed in a fancy suit with a large black bowtie. He was probably one of the drivers for the rich journalists that waltzed around this place, waiting for whenever someone bought a ride home because they were too drunk. 

"Are you alright? Your boss saw you run out and asked me to check on you, do you need anything?" 

Bressie didn't know if he should feel flattered that his boss was worried about him, or worried that his boss had seen him look like some lunatic at his very important Gala. 

"M'fine just… Uh, have you seen a short brunet lad come running through these doors? He had on a grey suit." 

The man blinked at him which meant he didn't know where Niall was. It made Bressie curse under his breath and step away from the man, already quickly fishing for his phone in his pocket to attempt to call him. 

Of course, it went to voicemail, of course. Bressie stood in the middle of the sidewalk outside the big Gala, a stranger standing beside him awkwardly and still trying to ask him questions he couldn't answer. Here he was, stood outside a place that had so much laughter and happiness inside, but he was a man that might've lost his husband in that same room. 

He couldn't think that negatively though, he knew that was mostly his anxiety talking. 

"If you lost someone that isn't picking up, going home might be the best thing to do. They might be there already." The comment came from the man. Bressie looked back and stared for a few seconds, before nodding slowly and walking off towards his car. 

He hoped to god that Niall was home, but where else could he be? Bressie was scraping all these different ideas and thoughts out of his head trying to find something that would keep him calm. H was a mess, mind like scrambled eggs as he got into the car. He struggled to get the keys into the ignition, finally starting the car before he pulled out of the parking lot and drove off, over the speed limit down the London streets. 

  


  


The flat was dead silent when he opened the door, taking note that it was unlocked. Bressie couldn't see anything throughout his place. The only light from the window, electric lights of London illuminating the home and the figure standing in the middle of the living room, back facing him. 

Bressie could hear sniffles, the sobs caught in Niall's throat. It sunk his heart deeper into his chest, but he kept his ground and built himself up enough to walk forward, now standing a few feet away from his husband. 

"Niall… Baby, please." That's all he could say, a pathetic whine of words because he didn't really have any guts to explain anything else. He kept his hands at his sides no matter how much he wanted to reach out and embrace his love, knowing comfort from him was the last thing Niall wanted. 

"What the  _ fuck _ were you thinking?" Niall sobbed out, his voice was broken and quiet, a hiccup passing his lips and making his shoulders shake under his grey suit. Half of the suit jacket had fallen off Niall's shoulders, hanging low into the crook of his elbow and showing the white t-shirt he was wearing underneath.

"I-I swear to god I didn't want her on top of me. Will and his mates had dragged me into the bloody strip club, and I was too drunk to think straight. I didn't ask her to give me anything, she just forced herself on me." Bressie was breathing heavily, anxiety swelling in his chest and it felt like it was crushing his lungs. 

There was a beat of silence, no sound -- not even from the city with car horns and people yelling -- it was like everything had stopped just for them, to listen in on their relationship breaking apart and collapsing.

Niall turned slowly, and Bressie saw the shimmer of his wet cheeks in the moonlight, the shine of his tearful eyes. He faced Bressie with that same look of betrayal and pain when they first looked at each other after all the secrets came flooding in, it was a shot straight to Bressie's body, wounding him. 

"You expect me to forgive you, to let this all go because… Because you were too drunk to get her off of you? Too drunk to leave the strip club? Too drunk to tell people you were with me?" A stray tear slipped down Niall's cheek, catching at his chin, dangling there. Bressie wanted to wipe it away, cup Niall's jaw, and bring him in for a kiss that would heal all these open wounds, but Bressie kept his hands where they were, curling his fingers into the seams of his pants. 

"You don't like when I tell people about us, you told me not to before I left and I agreed. We agreed that we didn't want people in our personal life, especially if they didn't, you know, except us." Bressie explained, trying to refresh Niall's memory but didn't want to make Niall seem stupid, or suddenly bring all the blame onto him. 

It was true, he and Niall agreed to this,  and Bressie kept that in the back of his mind the whole time he was here. He had only told once, and that was to Eoghan and Pat, who actually were his friends, not Will and his group of old men that got off to cheating on their wives. 

"So all of a sudden that means you can't say you're taken? Just saying you were married would've stopped all of this from happening." Niall's chest rose and fell quickly before he started to sob again. “It would've stopped me from completely losing my trust in you." One hand came up to slap over his mouth to try and muffle the sobs, tears freely flowing down his cheeks. 

Bressie wanted to think he could handle all the words thrown at him, could catch them all and fix everything. But he was a mess, opening and closing his mouth as he stared at his husband breaking apart in front of him. 

Niall was right, he could've just told his mates that he was taken, he could've just called a cab and went home instead of walking into that strip club. He could've stayed home the second night, instead of walking back into the place and kissing the girl that would ruin his life. 

He could've done a lot of things that would've prevented pain. That was all over now though, he screwed up too much to dwell on the past. 

"I-I had no feelings for her, she kept on pushing to give me a lap dance and I couldn't think straight so she just kept on doing it. Please believe me Niall, please I love y-"

"Don't you fucking dare tell me you love me after you did this, don't you dare Breslin!" Niall turned quickly on his heels, now stomping off towards Bressie's bedroom down the hall. Bressie followed quickly behind him, keeping a good distance between them still. 

"But I do, I fucking do Niall and I won't stop saying it because I need you to know the truth. I love you, there is no one I love more than you and that was a drunken mistake that I will regret for the rest of my life!" Bressie was yelling, his voice bouncing off the walls in the flat, everything so quiet it made his ears ring at the sudden loud noise. 

Niall didn't even flinch, still blinded by fury, consumed by rage and betrayal as he grabbed for his suitcase and started to pack his clothes inside. 

"You know," Niall's voice was wavering, still trying to hold back his tears as he leaned heavily onto the bed, gripping the ends of his bag so tightly his white knuckles shone in the light peaking through the blinds. "I wonder when you were actually going to tell me this yourself, since you weren't the one to tell me… No, instead it was some snobby rich drunk business men." 

Bressie was trying not to cry himself now, because this was the moment he needed to buckle down, man up, and tell his husband the full truth. Even though he knew this was going to leave more than a crack in their relationship, more like a crater. 

"I know you're already in pain… But -- fuck, I can't lie to you so I'm just gonna say it." Bressie could see Niall looked even more devastated, the way his expression dropped in realization there was more to all this. "I-I slept with her, as well." 

Bresie was expecting a slap to the cheek, or Niall's body colliding with his own with fists flying left and right. But when he refocused his gaze on his husband, all Niall did was blink back at him, silent tears still slipping down his cheeks. 

"Do you understand what you have done to me?" Niall whispered, bottom lip wobbling uncontrollably. 

Bressie couldn't build up the nerves to say anything, saying he loved Niall was the only thing he could spit out. His head was still a pile of mush, and he felt panic rise inside him. It felt like a bomb was dropped in his chest and ticking away, ready to burst. 

"I didn't want to hurt you, I-I wanted to forget about it because I knew that wasn't me those nights. I've learned my lesson now Niall, I will never ever do that again to you, ever." Bressie sobbed, his whole body shaking, sweat gathering along his forehead and along the valley of his spine as the stress grew worse and worse. 

"You didn't want to hurt me?" Niall laughed, a fake one that was wet and tired. He packed the last of his clothes, folding one more shirt before turning to face Bressie once again, this look of pure torture across his face. "You hurt me more by keeping this from me, and-and this just shows you won't change...Because soon, you'll get high off the feeling of me not knowing, the feeling of keeping a secret from your oblivious husband, and having dirty little secrets between your sheets while I am still loving you in a different country, waiting for you. You'll be just like those men you surround yourself with, a cheater and a heartbreaker." 

Bressie was speechless, mirroring Niall with the same devastated and pained expression. He watched silently as Niall moved towards the bathroom, the sounds of movement being the only thing Bressie was paying attention to until Niall came rushing back with some more of his things. He put them inside a little pocket of the bag and then closed it, zipping everything up to grab it and start hauling everything towards the front door. Bressie let him go, still standing in his room staring at the floor in shock until the gears in his brain started to turn again, his legs starting to move as he sprinted towards the door. 

Niall was searching for something, not caring about the mess he was making as he teared through cabinets and drawers in the kitchen, moving towards the living room and searching through files Bressie had on top of the coffee table. 

"Chief, take a breath, please we should talk more about this… Don't leave." Bressie found his voice, but he knew in the back of his head that everything he said was going to make Niall angrier, based on the scoff the smaller brunet made right after Bressie called him the intimate nickname, ‘Chief’. 

"We talked enough, I need the information for my flight tomorrow please, and then I am finding myself a hotel." Niall straightened himself up after giving up on fishing through Bressie's things. Bressie didn't want to answer that, but he knew dragging this out would just make Niall more mad at him. 

"You can't go to a hotel, you barely know London and you'll either get hurt or lost. I have your ticket and information for your flight, but please think wisely about this and just stay here for the night. Sleep in the spare bedroom." Bressie tried to sound as calm and look as small as possible as he spoke to his husband, who looked beyond distraught now. 

"I don't think I can stand being in the same household as you right now, Bressie, please just give me the goddamn ti-"

"No!" Bressie yelled, done trying to make Niall forgive him because he knew now was a lost cause. He didn't care if Niall's love towards him had disintegrated into nothing, but he wasn't going to let Niall walk out like this and fend for himself in a big city. 

Bressie still loved him, and he wouldn't be able to get a wink of sleep tonight if Niall walked out on him and into the scary London streets. 

"I don't care if you hate me, if you don't love me anymore, but I will not let you walk of here and end up getting hurt. I wouldn't be able to live if you got hurt after this fight, please for my sanity and yours, stay." 

Bressie stepped forward as he spoke and was surprised Niall didn't move away from him. But he didn't want to push his luck, now standing a couple feet closer to his husband. Niall looked a little calmer now as he stared at Bressie in the darkness. 

"Fine, but then I am taking a cab to the airport and going home," Niall concluded before he grabbed the bag that he dropped on the floor, and rushing off towards Bressie's spare bedroom. 

The door slammed shut before complete silence blanketed over Bressie's world, and it was just him standing in the middle of his living room. 

The least he could do -- the  _ only _ thing he could do -- was grab for the things Niall needed, and give them to him. 

Bressie wanted more, wanted to just waltz right into the spare bedroom and embrace Niall until they were fine again, but he knew they weren't going to be fine for a while, maybe even forever. 

He shook his head, biting at his lip hard enough that it scraped the surface of the flesh, causing it to blossom with blood. Bressie walked towards where the ticket was kept, tucked neatly in one of the drawers in the kitchen where he wouldn't forget it. It was all there, organized perfectly because he couldn't stand being the least bit messy, so he grabbed everything Niall needed and made his way towards the spare bedroom, staring at the door like it was the front steps to his first date’s home. 

He remembered his and Niall’s first date. It wasn't anything special, just a night at the bar and walk on the beach afterwards, where they soaked their feet in the cool water. Bressie had caught Niall off-guard and picked him up, rushing them waist-deep into the waves, soaking their nice clothes. 

It was worth it to see that life-changing smile come across his future husband's face, how Niall squealed when Bressie pretended to let go of him, but Bressie had caught  Niall before he hit the water, laughing loudly when Niall started playfully cursing at him. 

Bressie wishes he could make Niall smile like that again, he would do anything to see Niall happy, or have Niall look at  Bressie like he carved the earth itself and built a home in it for them to live. 

There were tears soaking his eyes again, ready to flood over once again. He held them in with a deep inhale, blowing out his cheeks and staring down at the papers in his trembling hands. 

He shouldn't knock, he should let Niall breath for a bit, let him think and reflect on tonight's events. Maybe with some kind of miracle Niall would forgive him in the morning, or at least let them talk before he headed off to the airport. 

Bressie knelt down, making sure the papers were flat in his hands before he carefully and delicately slipped them under the crack of the door, making sure they were fully inside Niall's room before straightening himself up. Taking one last look at the door, he slowly made a walk of shame to his own room. 

  


  


Niall didn't talk to Bressie all morning, never met Bressie's eyes even when he agreed to Bressie driving him to the airport. He would just stare at nothing in front of him, fixed on a random spot that his eyes would land on, thinking. 

Bressie tried, he really did. He made Niall coffee with one milk and two sugars, just what Niall usually got. But Niall took it silently, no acknowledgement and not even a stiff smile. 

Bressie knew he deserved it though, the silent treatment, the loss of interest, Niall pretending he was invisible. He turned Niall's life upside down, created a storm in their relationship, and he knew Niall had every right to be angry with him. 

So there he stood, leaned against his car as Niall grabbed his luggage out of the backseat and placed it down on the sidewalk. He offered to help, but Niall just blinked down at the floor and got it all out himself. 

"Say something, anything, before you leave me." Bressie's voice was low, trying not to catch the attention of the busy crowds around them, rushing to get to their flights. He tried not to cry too, but it was harder now that he was face to face with the person he loved the most. 

Niall still wasn't looking at him, but he let out a long sigh, still tired as he shuffled from one foot to the other, gripping his suitcase loosely. 

"London has changed you Brez, and you know it. Suddenly you're in a big city and think you can just go around doing whatever the hell you want, flirting with strippers and then fucking them, and thinking you'll get away with it just 'cause you didn't have me there to fulfill your needs." Niall sucked in a breath, tears welling up in his eyes just like Bressie, both of their hearts breaking together. "M'not leaving you, I just need time to… I-I just need time." Niall looked even more smaller than he usually was compared to Bressie, his shoulders collapsing in on himself and head tilting down as if he was some dog being punished. "You hurt me so much… So much that I honestly don't know what to do with myself anymore." He still wouldn't look at Bressie, and didn't when he turned away, not even looking over his shoulder after he finished his speech, or as he rushed off into the airport, disappearing into the mass of people. 

Bressie wondered already when, and if, he'd ever see Niall again. 

  


  


They don't talk for a full week. Bressie knew because he had been counting away the days in sorrow. Every day, he thought about Niall, thought about grabbing his phone and calling Niall just to see if he was okay, or leave a long voicemail pouring his heart out. 

That wasn't going to happen though. Niall's words echoed throughout the walls in his head right after he'd think about things like that.

_ 'I'm not leaving you, I just need time.'  _

But, how much time? A week? A month, or two? A year, or two? Bressie was constantly on edge, and he barely could get any work done with all these toxic thoughts swarming around his brain. 

It was Monday, he sat in his office chair attempting to do some work, sort some files out, edit some articles his mates gave him. He thought he was doing good, was certain the mask he had across his face to hide his problems and make his coworkers not worry about him. 

Apparently, Bressie was wrong though, because Harry was knocking lightly on the side of his cubicle with a deep concerning frown across his face. 

"Hey Brez." Harry greeted softly, taking a step into Bressie's office and moving swiftly towards the end of his desk so he could lean against it. There was a pause of silence, Bressie trying to build up his courage to say something without choking up, but he was taking too long. 

"I've seen you around this past week and after the Gala, I couldn't resist coming to see you." Harry sucked in a breath and held it for a second before letting it blow loudly between his lips, sounding exhausted. "You don't look alright lad, and if there is anything I can do… Anything I can help with..." Harry trailed off and stopped, staring at Bressie with a hopeful, but stiff expression like he was scared of what Bressie would say. 

"I -- Uhm, I'm fine Harry, just got some problems that I can fix up." Bressie gave his friend a weak smile, sounding awkward as he tried to cover up the mess he had made. He really didn't want anyone to figure out his problems, that was the last thing he wanted, but apparently Harry was a good observer. 

"Is it that brunet that was with you at the Gala? The one that ran off?" 

Bressie froze, sitting up a little straighter in his chair at what Harry asked him. He didn't know everything was that obvious, and now he was a blubbering mess as he tried to explain. 

But Harry just shook his head, extending a hand out in a gesture to calm him. "I saw how you acted with him, looked at him. You seemed to really show your love for that lad just by keeping a hand on his shoulder the whole night." Harry was keeping his voice low now, his eyes looking into Bressie's with words he couldn't say. "When he ran off after your uh… mates said those things, I could see the devastation come across your face. I'm sorry about that." 

Harry really shouldn't be saying sorry to him, Bressie was the bad guy in this situation. The man who cheated on his husband of many years with a woman he just met, and didn't even remember what she looked like because his head was so foggy from alcohol. Bressie didn't know why Harry was giving him pity, but he still couldn't speak, Harry was determined to go on with his speech. 

"If you really did do that to him, that's pretty low and I don't blame the guy for running off on you like that. But you're a good person above all your mistakes, I see it in your articles. I only met you a week ago, but I've been reading your stuff longer." 

Bressie didn't know if he should blush or cry, so all he could do was take in a shaky breath. 

"You -- you've read my articles?" He managed to shake that out of him, a simple question that he knew was the safest thing to ask without getting teary-eyed. 

Harry smiled, shifting from his slouched stance and looking a little more filled with pride as he nodded enthusiastically. 

"My favourite article that you did was on racism around the world. No one in this company would've had the guts to make something like that without worrying they'd get dragged through the mud by the public." Harry was talking as if Bressie was a famous book writer, and he was trying to convince him to write a sequel to his favourite one. His hands moving around showing many actions Bressie could barely keep up with. 

"I got some complaints here and there, but a step to being a good writer is being able to take criticism." He was quoting something he had read online once, and that had become a motto for him ever since he joined the team at The Telegraph. 

"When you say that..." Harry pondered, lips jutting out as his mind wondered. "Maybe this was your biggest bump in the road, the biggest criticism you could get that would really test how good of a writer you really are. Your husband could be your last hurdle to success, and maybe your last hurdle to a happy relationship with him." Harry was a good preacher, but Bressie was still confused, trying to find a way to answer such strong and powerful words directed to him. 

"You don't have to think too much into what I say, you could forget all about it when I leave, but I think writing to the world about the one you love most will make him really see how much you want him to forgive you." Harry shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets before walking off and out of the cubicle. 

  


  


Fingers were dancing along his keyboard only a half hour later. Bressie felt his thoughts flowing at what Harry had said to him. He sat with his office chair wheeled tightly to the edge of the desk, leaning over the fine wood as he stared intensely at the screen in front of him, letting the words come to life. 

It was typed, edited, and ready to be posted the next day. Now, he was staring at the good copy of his work printed on the front page of The Telegraph, inked black words in thin straight lines dragged down the page in columns. He read it over as soon as he got home, sitting down on his couch and not caring that he wasn't following his usual routine of getting changed into comfier clothes or brushing his teeth. He needed to read this, needed to know what Niall -- hopefully -- was going to see. 

_ A Word From A Man In A Struggling Relationship. _

_ My name is Niall Breslin, an aspiring writer who had his dream come true. But with that dream came a nightmare when my husband didn't want me to leave because our relationship would be tainted since we were going to be an ocean apart, from Ireland to England.  _

_ Everything is complicated, there is no perfect relationships. Kisses can be turned into punches, I love you's can turn into I hate you's, and sex can become nothing but the only string left in your relationship that you hold on to.  _

_ Mine isn't like that, mine is perfect… Was perfect. My husband is a beautiful man who loves life, and the people surrounding him. But he only loves it all in one place, believes that life can only go on in one location, and that is our hometown in Ireland.  _

_ It's a small place, just a couple thousand people where every face is a familiar one, and that was what he likes. No change, no worries, just happiness and smooth sailing your whole life. But I wanted adventure, I was a man who had a dream and knew there was more in my life than the same faces, same buildings, and same scenery.  _

_ That was how we parted, really, me moving to London and being happy, and him being happy and settled in our home in our town. I got too happy though, too confident in my new life because with the new faces, new buildings, and new scenery I became a new man and it wasn't a good thing.  _

_ I cheated on my husband.  _

_ I will never forgive myself. I was a man who hated cheaters before, and still hate cheaters now, and that means when I look into the mirror I hate myself. We were still together, but all of a sudden now that I am in a different country I think about how he won't be with me. He wasn't there with me physically, yes, but he was there mentally and right in my heart.  _

_ I know that because now that he has found out about me cheating I feel like there is a constant pain in those places, a rip in my heart, a blank space in my mind. I need him but I ruined it all because I was reckless, because I became a new man.  _

_ But I am staring at my mistakes right in the face, standing up for my true self and saying no. The old me in that small town would never cheat, so I better pick myself up and glue myself back together, so I can get my husband to love me again. Because no matter how far away you are from the love of your life, you need to be loyal.  _

_ He is the love of my life, my husband, because we have memories shared between us that will stay with me forever. He has made me the man I am today, made me stronger, made me wiser. I am a cheater, but I am also a man who can change. I am a man who can love and respect a person who deserves to be respected.  _

_ He deserves to be respected, so as you read this last part of the article you will see how much of an amazing man he is.  _

_ My name is Niall Breslin, an aspiring writer who had his dream come true. I have a husband named Niall Horan who loves to garden and after, he'll have a cold beer while sitting on the porch steps in the evenings. He has a fascination with vintage things and stuff that most people would want to throw away. He would cook for me when I came home from my old job, spooned me in our shared bed, and kissed me any chance he got.  _

_ And I would do anything to have that back.  _

  


  


It was the next morning when he saw his phone lighting up with notifications, sat crooked on his bedside table probably from vibrating so much. There was texts congratulating him , so many his thumb got tired of scrolling endlessly down the screen. But when he saw a voicemail, that's what froze his movements, scrolling back up just the smallest bit until he was blinking at the contact name. 

_ 'Nialler' _ , it read. 

It was kind of comical how fast Bressie pressed it, hands fumbling to place his phone to his ear, breath falling short -- getting caged in his throat as soon as he heard his husband's voice. 

"Uhm… Hey Brez, it's me, Niall. You are either at work or sleeping, but I just want to say I want to see you again, want to fix things and talk… Like really talk this time." 

There was a long pause, dragging out with only the sound of something shuffling on the other end. It sounded like sheets and Bressie could only imagine Niall curled up in their bed. "I saw your article, I-I really do still love you." 

The loud buzz of the phone disconnecting was heard right after, like Niall had hung up fast as soon as he said those three words. 

Bressie couldn't help but replay the voicemail, heart growing warm and everything feeling just a little bit better now that he knew Niall had seen what he had written for him, that Niall still loved him. 

It wasn't really a thought though when he got up to get ready for work, he was going to leave as soon as possible. This was an emergency, something his boss could surely be lenient with. 

When he was dressed he bolted down the stairs to his car, trying to calm himself down in the early morning traffic and feeling a little impatient as time ticked by. He felt every minute was wasted not being with Niall, his heart a constant and hard thump against his ribcage. 

He skipped the daily coffee he got himself at the cafe in the foyer, he only gave people small, short nods and half smiles as his feet carried him fast through the halls and up the elevator towards his bosses level. There was a thin layer of sweat along his forehead, showing his nervousness as he approached his boss’ office. 

Bressie knocked, three short but loud thuds against the wooden door. He was being polite, stepping back to give the guy some room as the door opened. His boss looked overjoyed to see him, big eyes and a toothy grin as he gave him a firm grip on the shoulder before escorting Bressie into his office. 

"I have a feeling I know what you already want from me,” his boss said, grey moustache moving up with his amused smile as he leaned back on his desk, watching Bressie as he stood with his hands clasped in front of him. 

Jeez, was he that obvious again? Harry had caught his gloomy attitude, and now his own boss? But it seemed like the man could tell he looked a little taken-back, and he shook his head with a chuckle as he folded his arms over what looked like a brand new suit. 

"Your article made it pretty obvious to me, my friend. You have a relationship to patch up, and you have been non-stop hard at work throughout the past couple months. You deserve a break." 

Bressie didn't know how much happiness he could take in one day, hearing those words coming from his boss made him bite the inside of his cheek so he didn't smile too goofily. 

"You have amazing writing skills. When you get back, I'd like to have a chat about giving you a promotion to something more fitting for your growing professionalism in journalism." 

That was the last thing his boss said to him, something that Bressie repeated in his head the whole walk back towards the elevator to go to his own floor. He didn't even have it all kick in until the elevator doors closed. He stumbled back to lean against the railing, something similar to a squeak passing his lips. 

He was already being promoted, in the dream job he didn't even think he'd get into in the first place. 

  


  


Ron picked him up again when he had landed in Dublin, but the man didn't have his usual excitement when he saw Bressie. It looked like he was holding it in throughout the whole car ride back home, only making small talk. 

_ ‘How's life?’ Good, kinda bad right now. ‘It's great to see you back in Ireland.’ Yeah, I'm glad to be back. _

Bressie knew why. There was no question in his head why his mate was acting like this, so timid in his presence. He had cheated on Niall, one of the town's favourite people, someone who was looked up to by everyone. Bressie had done something sinful, and people didn't know how to take this. They didn't know if they should welcome him with open arms, or watch as bystanders when Niall ripped him to shreds. 

It wasn't like London where people just forgive and forget. Or, where people just go on with their busy lives hating their exes, friends, and not caring if they were horrible people. In their perspective, that's just how the world turned. 

"Thank you for driving me back, really you've helped me a lot these past couple months Ron." Bressie gave his mate a smile when they stopped in front of the house. He got a silent nod in return. It hurt Bressie a lot to see someone he had cheeky banter with, now looking at him like a stranger, biting the inside of their cheek because they were forcing themselves not to talk to him. 

He ignored it though, pushed it to the back of his mind because that was the least of his problems right now. Bressie could lose friends, but he couldn't lose Niall, his beating heart. His feet took him to the porch steps and he loosened his grip on his suitcase, deciding to leave it abandoned outside the door since he could easily just get it later. 

Bressie stayed quiet, moving his way into his home like he was walking on clouds. He wanted to take in the familiar scent, the way it had been overpowered by Niall since Bressie had been away for so long. 

He wanted to change that, hopefully have it be a mixture of the both of them again. 

Everything looked the same, the same frames were hung on the walls, the same old furniture Niall had bought to satisfy his need for vintage decor was still scattered around in separate rooms. Bressie ran his fingers along the old fabric of the couch, picking at a loose stitch in one of the seams. 

Niall wasn't in the house, there was no movement or sound of old floorboards creaking under his weight. It was only Bressie's presence in their home, so he was making his way towards the back, smiling when he could hear the sounds of a shovel being shoved into the dirt over and over again. 

Niall was there by the shed at the other end of the backyard. The shed was the only thing that looked modern on their whole property, since they had only built it last year. Niall grew an extreme interest in gardening, and he had no place to put the collection of gardening tools he had bought, or borrowed from his parents, so Bressie had been happy to make them a bigger and better shed. It also gave them storage for things they didn't want in the house anymore, there was probably an old tv and a lounge chair stuffed in the back somewhere. 

Niall was beside it, basked in the small amount of shade that the building made to shield himself from the sun, working on what looked like another garden. The dirt was all raised up on the ground, a large rectangular plot was created, half of it in the shade and half of it in the sun that beamed down, merciless. 

Bressie walked towards him, Niall still not noticing his company yet, too concentrated on shovelling out what looked like some roots caught up in the ground. There were flowers scattered at the edge of the shed, now that Bressie was closer. All of them were still in their little black packages, ready to be planted. 

Before, he would move up behind Niall and wrap his arms around his love’s waist,  pressing his chest to Niall's warm back, breathing in his scent and brushing his nose along the hair at the back of his neck. He loved when Niall would tense and then immediately relax in his hold, knowing it was Bressie and no one else. 

But Bressie couldn't do that anymore, but he only realized that after he was already embracing his husband from behind. He was in the middle of burying his face into the crook of Niall's neck when he realized his stupidity. 

Bressie didn't move though, because Niall wasn't pushing him away or yelling at him. There was still tension in his smaller body, not going away like Bressie hoped. The shovel dropped from Niall's hands, falling to the ground with a soft  _ thud _ . 

"I love you so much," Bressie mumbled, not holding back any longer. He’d been stressed, worried about this encounter until the last few seconds. He needed to pick himself off the ground and take Niall back, pour his heart out till it's drained. 

He felt Niall's hands on his, the roughness of his skin from the dirt and hard days work felt new against Bressie's. But it was nice, so nice to feel that touch knowing it spoke louder than words, that Niall was taking him in instead of pushing him away. 

"It's okay to change..." Niall mumbled, his voice sounding like he hadn't used it in days. "But it's not okay to change so much that I don't even know who you are anymore." 

It hurt hearing that, but Bressie stood his ground, kept his arms tight around his husband's middle as he picked the perfect words to say. 

"I haven't changed, I am still the Bressie you met when you were just a young hormonal little lad, and I will always be that Bressie. I know I have done some pretty stupid shit, but in the end I'll always come back to you. I won't even leave you in the first place, I'd rather be beside you through everything." He could feel the tears coming, that itch at the back of his throat as it clogged with emotion. "You're it for me, Chief." 

"What do you mean,  _ 'you're it for me’ _ ?'" Niall was getting less and less tense in Bressie's hold, now resting back against  Bressie's chest as he stared off into the field they had behind their shed and new garden -- the flatlands to the forest along the horizon. A sight that convinced them to buy the house in the first place. 

"I have loved you since you were just in high school, and even when I went to College all I thought about was you. When we married, every day when I went to work I thought about what you were doing -- if you were buying new flowers for the garden, shopping in the small market, waiting around for customers in your store. When I moved to London,  I thought about the same things. I thought about your face and wanted to see it every single day, and no one will ever be better than you. Not that woman at that club, not some guy on the streets of London, no one. It's you and it will always be you." Bressie felt like he had no air left in his lungs after saying that, and he had to close his eyes to calm himself, focusing on the breeze cooling his heated cheeks. 

"I sold the shop," is what Niall answered with.

Bressie blinked dumbly down at him, staring at the younger brunet’s, who was staring at the shovel laid at his feet. Niall looked lost in thought, but when he noticed Bressie staring he turned around in his grip so they were face to face. 

"Why? I thought you loved that place?" Bressie felt horrible, thinking he was the one that pressured Niall into doing all that, into becoming a new person that he didn't want to be. But Niall didn't look at all sad, he peered up at Bressie with big blue eyes, two round planets staring into Bressie's soul. 

"I did until business became slow and the bills got harder to pay," Niall shrugged, and Bressie was expecting his husband to cry, say it wasn't fair, do something that would look like what he imagined. But maybe Niall had done all the crying before he came, let it all out ‘til he was numb to the topic. 

"I could've helped you, I have money now… A lot of it." 

Niall shook his head, moving his hands to Bressie's chest to rub down along his pecks and stopping at his stomach. Bressie couldn't help but feel his heart squeeze at the flash of the wedding ring still fit perfectly on Niall's finger, the golden band like a knot tying them together. 

"I wanted to start fresh, to look at my life in a different light." 

The wheels in Bressie's mind turned slowly, but he got the point of Niall's answer and it made him raise his brows high. 

"In a different light meaning… London?" Bressie was sure he was seeing double, staring down at Niall with wide hopeful eyes.

"Yes, meaning London." Niall smiled. It wasn't all the way -- wasn't the one that made him look like all his happiness was radiating out of it, but it was something, and Bressie gladly smiled back. 

"I can find a job, like you said. Maybe when we have enough money, we can find a place not so close to downtown but for now… I want to live my life with you, not away from you." 

Bressie couldn't help but laugh with joy, hands moving to Niall's waist and grabbing at it tightly before lifting his husband over his shoulder, doing one fast spin before rushing off towards the house and up the porch steps. 

He stopped when they were by the back door, hearing Niall's loud laugh flowing with the wind and into Bressie's ears like a perfect melody. As soon as Niall was on his feet, Bressie moved them so the smaller brunet was pinned against the wall of the house, one hand coming up beside Niall's head as they locked eyes. 

"Don't be all cheesy now Head, you're acting like we just got engaged again." Niall was trying to hold in his laugh, making his cheeks go red. He was slack against the wall, one hand coming up to wrap around Bressie's forearm where his hand was pressed by his head, his cheek resting against it as well. He still looked sad, Bressie could see the pain in his eyes -- the look of lost trust, trying to figure Bressie out -- but that was something Bressie hoped to fix in time. 

"I am allowed to be happy that I just got my husband back, and didn't just fuck up my life." Bressie leaned forward, brushing their noses together, letting them breath each other in before pressing their lips together in a long awaited kiss. 

  


  


"What about the house?" Niall asked as they sat in the back porch like they usually did during their down time. 

Bressie was perched in a chair, head laid back, staring up at a cobweb in the corner of the ceiling, while Niall was sat stretched sideways along his lap, legs dangling over the side of the arm of the chair. 

"What do you mean?" Bressie asked, gaze moving back to stare down at Niall. He had on his glasses, the ones he needed but never used, he looked ravishing in them with his brunet hair and freshly shaven face. 

"I mean, we have to sell the house if we're moving away… But do ya' think anyone would even want it." Niall looked sad, frowning as he broke their eye contact to look off at the new garden he created. Bressie wondered why he had stopped putting the flowers into the dirt, he probably thought there was no use since they were moving. 

"Who said we have to sell the house? This place can be our little vacation place, somewhere to go to when the city life becomes too much." Bressie was sincere in what he was saying, he never ever wanted to sell this place. It had their life packed into it, the walls absorbed all their memories, every surface had their DNA pressed across it. Bressie could never let anyone else have it. 

"A home away from home," Niall hummed, and Bressie nodded, reaching out his hand out to brush along Niall's shaggy hair. 

"This town will still be here when we leave -- same people, same buildings, same memories. I would never just take everything away from you. But I promise you, London will be a second life for us, and a good one." 

Niall didn't answer, just kicked his feet back onto the floor before standing up and walking off to the edge of the porch, the tips of his toes hanging off the edge of the first step descending down to the grass. 

They still weren't going to be okay, weren't going to be perfect like before. 

Bressie would wake up in the middle of the night to hear Niall crying beside him in bed, hands pressed into his face to try and muffle the noises, but failing. Bressie would see Niall stop whatever he was doing sometimes to press his forehead to the heel of his hand, like he needed to drain out the bad thoughts that came flowing into his head. 

Niall was still hurt, still in pain from what Bressie had done. But Bressie was there  to mend everything back together. When Niall would cry beside him at night, he would shuffle so his chest was pressed against the younger brunet’s back, kissing at the top of his spine and petting his side, shushing him and telling him everything would be okay. Or, when Bressie would see Niall wondering off into dark thoughts he'd tug Niall above water again, taking him out of whatever abyss he was in, taking him a step in the right direction, a step towards being a happy couple again. 

It was quick, and Bressie barely realized what was happening until Niall was perched on his lap once again, this time straddling his waist with his knees squished in on either side of his hips. He blinked up at Niall in surprise, not expecting that. 

"A second life with you?" Niall jutted his bottom lip out, finally answering what Bressie had said minutes ago. He was thinking, pout on his face as he stared at the wall behind Bressie's head. When he figured out what to say, his eyes moved slowly back to meet with Bressie's, an eternal look there.

"Sounds perfect." Niall replied, and Bressie could already see the familiar spark in his husbands eyes, that forever and always that he thought he lost, but found again. 

  


**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr and twitter is niallerar if you want to check me out :)


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